


The High King's Sevlem

by Denstort



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fate & Destiny, M/M, Magic-Users
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 47,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6395308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denstort/pseuds/Denstort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Howard knew he would have to marry...but he had no idea what fate and destiny had in store for him.</p><p>Author's Note: I know....I know, another new story...what am I like. But this one just needs writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Sevlem in this world is a man that is capable of bearing children. They are rare and usually never see the outside of the Temple or the Royal Household.

"The High King is not pleased that his son will not be matched with the Sevlem.”

“I care not that the High King is displeased. He will not be High King for much longer...the God and Goddess have spoken to me in the fires.”

“Then it is true.”

“Yes... Duke Howard’s son Dominic will be the High King and the Sevlem will be the High King’s Sevlem, There is a great battle ahead and many will perish, but this match will be the one that will challenge the evil that is coming.”

“A High King and a warrior priest...may the God and Goddess protect them both and give them the strength to face what is to come.”

************************

Lord Dominic didn’t mind getting married. He was the oldest son and it was his duty. He didn’t mind that it was to a man; he did like men after all . But there were things that he disliked...one was that it had been an order from the High King and the Temple...two that he didn’t like being told who he could marry...three, he had never met his bride to be...and four and the most scary was that his intended was a Sevlem, a man who could bear children.

“I don’t understand, why I am marrying this man if he is a Sevlem. Why isn’t the High King marrying him off to Prince Marcus?” he said to his companion and best friend Lord Thomas.

They were waiting by the crossroads that marked the edge of several Dukedom’s and the Wild Lands The wedding entourage would have to pass through bandit territory to reach his father’s lands, and they would not think twice about attacking and then kidnapping such a prize as a Sevlem; even at the risk of facing the High King’s own formidable warriors and his father’s own soldiers; not to mention the Temple guards.

“I heard that the High Priest and Priestess forbade it. You know what they are like about bloodlines and keeping the purity. Rumour has it that Marcus’ parentage is questionable...that and the fact that he’s a cold heartless bastard who’s never going to take the throne. But, that’s just rumour.”

“I’m more interested in what this Sevlem looks like,” Lord Glen said. “They say he was taken to the Temple at ten years of age, when it was found he was a Sevlem and was trained in the ways and arts of the God and Goddess and the art of war. They say he is a rare beauty, but has spirit to match it.”

“A warrior priest,” Dominic said to himself, then out loud. “We won’t see his face until he’s presented to my father. The temple guards will have the eyes of anyone trying to look before then.”

Both Thomas and Glen shifted in their saddles; the temple guards were known for their ferocity and absolute loyalty to the Temple and whoever was in their charge.

“Well, we will find out soon, I think that dust cloud is them,” Thomas said.

The sounds of jingling bits and the thuds of many hooves could be heard and then emerging from the dust cloud a group of riders appeared, bearing the flag the carried the colours of the High King. The group cantered towards them and stopped just in front of them.

Dominic recognised Duke Anderson, the High King’s most trusted advisor and the General in charge of the High King’s vast army. The three men bowed their heads in respect to such a powerful man, before there were less formal handshakes.

“I trust your journey was without incident,” Dominic said.

“It was, although a few bandits did give us some sport in Duke Leto’s land,” Duke Anderson said.

“I hope no-one was harmed, especially the Sevlem.”

“Oh, I think they would have a nasty surprise with our Blessed of the Heavens.”

Dominic wasn’t quite sure how to take that statement, but before he could ask what was meant by that, the rest of the entourage had caught up, and the small party re-joined it. He could see the carriage that no doubt held the Sevlem, it’s outside draped in the symbols and colours of the God and the Goddess.

He pushed his horse forward, his two friends following, and the High King’s men parted to let them through. He stopped outside the carriage and was about to pull the silk curtains back, when his way was blocked by a man that was a good six inches taller than him and twice his size, and a sword and horse to match it.

“You do not approach the Blessed of the Heaven’s without express permission,” he growled and the sword was pointed at Dominic’s chest.

Thomas and Glen started to draw there own swords when a voice said.

“Peace, Christopher. Let him approach.”

The voice was strong, masculine, yet had a softness that should belong to a woman, and it was melodious. The curtain was drawn back but it was one of the Temple guards that Dominic saw. He could just about make out a figure in the shadows, and the faint scent of jasmine and cedar wood filled his nostrils.

“You are Lord Dominic, my husband to be. You must excuse Christopher, he is my personal guard and is therefore extremely protective. I hope no offence was taken?”

“None, Sevlem. The Temple guards have such a reputation for unswerving loyalty and it is no doubt well earned.”

“That they have and it is. It is still some way to your father’s castle and the sun is beginning to wane...and my entourage and the good men serving Duke Anderson have travelled a long distance since my departure from the Temple. I should like them to be rested along with myself before we cross into the Wild Lands.”

“Of course, Sevlem...our camp is a few miles east of here.”

The figure inside then said something in a language Dominic didn’t understand, but Christopher nodded and rode away, shouting out orders in the same language and the whole entourage started to swing east.

**************************

Inside the carriage the figure that had been in the shadows removed the veil they had been wearing.

“Goddess, I shall be glad to be able to ride a horse again. I hate these things.”

“Sevlem, it would be unseemly to be seen riding by your future husband.”

“Pssh, Sifa, I am going to be sharing his bed...best I get used to riding a stallion before then.”

“Sevlem! Such coarse language.”

“What, do you not think he would be hung like a stallion. I heard the Howard men a blessed in that way.”

That elicited a fit of giggles from the two hand-maidens and a small smile from the temple guard, until the older woman glared at them.

“You may be Sevlem, but that does not mean I cannot still wash your mouth out with bitter weed.”

“I am just jesting, Sifa. But if I am to marry this man and be stuck in a gilded cage like a mocking bird, then I must keep my humour.”

“Sevlem....my little Matthew, the last thing you will ever be is a bird in a gilded cage. I think this Lord Howard is in for a shock.”

“Hmm...still, I will pray to the Goddess when we have made camp, that Lord Howard is a kind and loving man.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dominic see more of the Sevlem that he should and keeps his eyes....and a spell is cast.

Dominic marvelled at how quickly the tent that served as the Sevlem’s accommodation was erected, and was highly amused at the reaction of hardened soldiers when the Sevlem, accompanied by Christopher and a priest approached Dominic as he sat round a fire with his men.

He could understand their reaction, a Sevlem was a rarity and was never seen outside of the Temple in the High King’s capital or locked away in the High King’s palace. He smiled when they tried to bow, restricted by their armour, a Sevlem or “Blessed of The Heavens” was to be respected for fear of offending the God or the Goddess.

Dominic wished he could see beneath the veil that the Sevlem was wearing ; the man was going to be his husband and then the bearer of his children, hopefully. Again there was that scent of jasmine and cedar-wood, it was a heady brew...well to him anyway.

His attention was taken away from the Sevlem by the priest speaking.

“My Lord Dominic, the Sevlem wishes to know if the pool of water is used for watering the horses?”

He was slightly thrown by the question, but he answered anyway, “No, we only draw water from it for bathing and placing water in the watering troughs.”

The priest turned to the Sevlem, and they conversed in the same language that Dominic had heard the Sevlem use when speaking to Christopher. Then the priest spoke again.

“The Sevlem must ask for a blessing and protection of the camp before we cross the Wildlands. That is why the question was asked, the water must be pure. Please make sure that the men keep away from the pool when the moon is at its zenith.”

Dominic nodded, he really didn’t want to witness the punishment that would be metered out for such a crime. The ceremonies were only for the eyes of the priests and the temple guard and as such, the penalties could be harsh, including death.

“I thank you,” the Sevlem said. “I shall ask for the protection of the Earth Mother herself to protect us.”

Dominic felt a little uneasy at that, the use of magic always made him feel uncomfortable, although he had yet to witness the powerful kind of magic that a priest of the Temple could wield.

The camp grew quiet as men and horses settled for the night, but Dominic found he could not sleep. 

So he decided to patrol the outer edges of the camp and without realising it, found himself near the pool. He heard the sound of soft voices and hurried to hide himself in a bush by the pool. He knew he should have turned away, but his curiosity and the chance to see perhaps just a small glimpse of his intended robbed him of any common sense.

The first person he saw from his hiding place was Christopher, that was one person that he did not wish to tangle with. Then the same priest he had seen earlier, along with two more temple guards and what looked like two hand-maidens and a woman dressed in the garb of a matron followed.

Last to come into view was the Sevlem, his face and body still covered. But Dominic could see by the way he moved that he’d been trained as a warrior; not even clothes designed to shield from view could hide that.

He watched as the priest scattered petals on the water and drew something in the dirt. He almost gave himself away when he nearly gasped out loud when the Sevlem, who’s back was towards him removed his veil and then the top half of his clothing and waded into the water

Dominic stared at the expanse of pale skin, that shone like alabaster in the moonlight. His eyes were drawn to the tattoo that wound around the Sevlem’s torso; he couldn’t see it clearly.

He watched as well honed muscles were used to perform the intricate weaving of what would be a spell, and his mind could not help but wonder how else those muscles and hands could be used . He jumped when the light flared from the Sevlem’s hands. He hastily beat a retreat, not looking back and only relaxing when he reached his tent. He ignored the questioning look from his servant and went straight to his bed. He fell into an uneasy sleep, his dreams full of the sight of that expanse of alabaster skin and the tattoo that it bore.

*********************

Matthew shivered slightly at the coolness of the water, but he could sense the power of the Earth Mother in its purity. He closed his eyes and began the intricate spell that would summon the power into himself.

It was no easy task to communicate with the Earth Mother, she was an elusive goddess and would not always respond.

“Se’a sesha, risha...I ask to speak to the Mother of the Earth. Grant me an audience.”

He could feel the power of the spell and when he opened his eyes, he was still standing in the pool but it was shimmering with the presence of the deity.

“Who calls...ah, the Blessed of the Heaven’s. What is your request?”

“I seek your protection as I and those that escort me traverse these unruly and violent lands. If I call upon your creations to aide us, will they heed my call?”

A lilting laugh made the water ripple.

“Little Sevlem...not only will they heed your call, but they will do your bidding. My sister the Goddess and my brother the God have decreed it.”

The shimmering began to disperse and he felt the power leave him and was grateful for the presence of the two hand-maiden who caught him; he always felt drained after communing with the gods. As the power left him he sensed something on the edge of his mind....he’d been watching.

A small smile crossed his face.....it was going to be interesting, getting to know Lord Howard.


	3. Chapter 3

“It has been a while since I have ventured into the Wild Lands. Are they still as troublesome?” Duke Anderson asked as they rode through a small desert area.

“Unfortunately yes. The Dukes try their best to keep them within the borders, but they are becoming bolder and have started to raid the villages just inside more than one Dukedom. My father and I are beginning to think that someone is turning them into an organised army and not groups more interested in killing each other.”

“I will speak to the High King when I return to the capital. He has neglected the Dukedoms for too long.”

“Is it true there is unrest in the Western Kingdom?” Dominic asked.

“My spies tell me so, but that is enough about politics. Tell me, Lord Dominic, do you think it is just a little too quiet?”

Dominic nodded, “ I’ve been expecting some sort of attack all day.”

“Perhaps the presence of the royal troops and the temple guard is too much for them.”

Dominic shook his head, “The Sevlem is too great a prize. He is worth losing a few men over. No, I am beginning to wonder......”

A shout went up from behind and they turned their horses, just in time to see the Sevlem’s carriage careering away from the rest of the entourage, a figure that was definitely not one of the temple guards driving the horses onward, and there were two more hanging off the outside of the carriage.

Dominic and Duke Anderson urged their horses into a gallop, and as they did they could see Christopher and the rest of the Temple Guard in pursuit. Trusting Lord Rowe and Lord Kirk to keep order they, along with a dozen or so riders sped off, after the pursuing party.

*****************

“Sevlem, now would be a good time to study the survey of Duke Howard’s lands,” the priest said.

Matthew sighed, he hated this sort of thing. He wasn’t interested in how much wealth the Howard family had. If he wanted wealth he would lay claim to his own families fortune and lands. No, he was interested in the Howard family themselves, what they were like as people. He could not align himself with people that he disliked; no matter what the High Priest and Priestess said.

Still, he started to look at the parchment and was about to find out how many head of cattle they owned, when the carriage suddenly shot forward and the driver fell through the covering, his throat cut. B fore the guard could react, two armed men had jumped through the hole and the guard was thrown from carriage.

But this gave Matthew time to react, and he drew the dagger that he always had secreted on his person. 

He went for the nearest man, not caring about the finesse of the kill; he would ask forgiveness for killing later. He managed to force the other man out of the carriage, just as he felt the ward the priest had conjured crash into place. The carriage was still moving, but with the ward in place he and the priest were trapped, just as the armed men were stuck outside.

He had no doubt that Christopher and the temple guard would be in pursuit, and their actions would be swift and violent. It was then that he felt it and he looked at the priest, who he knew must have sensed it too...someone was about to use magic.

His eyes widened when he sensed what was being conjured; it was powerful magic. He could only listen to the squeal of frightened horses...Christopher. Then he could only concentrate on staying upright, as the carriage made a sudden turn.

The carriage seemed to be going faster and he knew that at any moment it could go over, and it did. The protective ward came crashing down as the carriage slid on its side, then he and the priest were dragged from it, too dazed to use their own magic to defend themselves.

“Kill the priest,” he heard someone say.

“No!” he cried and received a dizzying blow to the head.

“We have to go, they have neutralised my magic. I cannot take on that many mages, nor can your men take on the temple guards.”

“Get him on a horse!”

He was virtually thrown onto a horse and that was their mistake; horses were a creation of the Earth Mother. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, he quickly leant forward and whispered in the horse’s ear. It lashed out at the horse behind, causing a chain reaction. He spurred his horse forward, clinging to the mane, his head to fuzzy to guide the horse with its reins. He just pointed the horse in what he hoped was the right direction and prayed that the horse was swifter that the ones that would soon be chasing him.

He never noticed a yelling and angry mass of riders stream past him, nor the hands that caught him before he fell off the horse. He barely registered the voice saying his name.

But as darkness took him, he swore he could hear a voice.

“We will meet, se’har.”

*************************

Dominic had never witnessed the magic that the Temple Priest could perform, but he was now as he and the two groups of pursuers were hampered in their pursuit by a column of fire that moved when they moved.

“Sorcery,” he heard Christopher hiss, then shout. “Bring that down!”

Dominic could actually feel the air around him grow colder and he could see his own breath as two of the priest cast a spell. The column of fire was snuffed out like a candle in a flurry of ice and snow, and without hesitation they were off, this time one of the priest in the lead; no doubt following the small trail that casting magic left behind.

“Rider ahead....it’s the Sevlem!” a cry came...then Dominic was brining his horse to a skidding halt along with Christopher and Duke Anderson, whilst the rest of the riders hurtled towards the already fleeing bandits.

Christopher jumped off his horse and just about caught the small figure as it toppled from the horse.

“Sevlem.....Matthew?” he heard Christopher say, then they were gone in a flurry of dust and hoof beats.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More magic and a glimpse of the powers that the Sevlem possesses, a warning....and a teaser at the end.

The camp was unnervingly quiet, even after the chaos of earlier, there would have been the usual activity of a large camp. But the servants kept to their tents and fires, because their lords and their men never called them. 

All eyes were turned towards the tent whose light shone the brightest; the physicians tent. They had seen the Sevlem being carried by his bodyguard, bloodied and half-concious. Whispered questions went round the camp-fires, but not even the bravest dare ask the question of the man standing guard outside, who glared at servant, soldier and Lord with the same intensity.

The whole camp offered up silent prayers to the Guardian of the gates to the Underworld to keep them firmly shut and keep the Silent Rider at bay; the anger of the God and Goddess if the Sevlem died at the hands of another man did not bear thinking.

*********************

Dominic watched as people entered and exited the tent. He could hear muted conversation and was starting to get annoyed and frustrated at not being allowed inside; he was going to marrying the Sevlem. He saw the Matron exit the tent and he stopped her.

“ Your pardon, Matron Sifa...how is the Sevlem?”

“The injury is not serious, tis’ more blood that wound, the Goddess be praised.” 

“I would like to see him.”

“He is unveiled, it is not permitted.”

He was about to demand it was his right to see his intended, when a wave of voices rippled through the camp. One of Duke Anderson’s men was hurrying towards him, then said in between gasps. 

“The pursuers have returned, they have prisoners.”

Dominic took a last look at the tent, then followed the soldier, and as he followed he felt pity for the what the prisoners would face in the morning. But first he would have the dubious pleasure of helping in the questioning of said prisoners.

“Ah, there you are, ” Duke Anderson said.

Dominic nodded in return, then looked over to the other side of the tent. There was only one prisoner and Lord Kirk, along with one of the priests; he turned back to the Duke.

“The others were quick to tell that this man was the one who struck the Sevlem. The pursuers however were unable to lay hands on their leader and the rouge mage.”

“And you never will,” the prisoner said.

“Quiet,” Lord Kirk said and tightened his hold on the chain around his neck.

“He does know what he faces for harming the Sevlem.”

“Aye, I do, and I would do it again. Blessed of the Heavens, he’s nothing but a whore.”

That earned the man a savage yank on his chains, that brought him to his knees.

“ Pray to whatever god you follow, that they will grant you a quick end,” the priest said.

“ My death and my blood will be a grand wedding present for the Sevlem and Lord Howard. What is one more stain to the ones that already stain the Temple walls and the High King’s palace.”

“Take him away.”

Dominic sighed and sat down, “It’s a bad business.”

Duke Anderson nodded, “But it is the will of the God and the Goddess.”

“Can there be no leniency for the others ”

“Only the Sevlem can grant it, as he is a priest of the High Temple. Their fate is in his hands,” the priest said.

“But the Sevlem has been hurt.”

“The Sevlem will preside, he will read their hearts. He must decide their fate.”

***********************

“Sevlem, it is time.”

Matthew opened his eyes and stood from his kneeling position. He’d been praying for guidance from the God and Goddess. It was weighing heavy on his mind that he was to decide on the fate of fellow humans.

“I do not wish to do this, Sifa,” he said as she adjusted his clothing and attached his veil.

“I know, but you can look into their hearts and see what kind of men they truly are. Let that guide you as to their fate.”

“I wish it were not so.”

“My little Sevlem, no-one said it would be easy, this life you are embarking on. There will be many such cases that you will judge. But justice must be served.”

Matthew sighed, “Let us do this swiftly, I still feel a little light-headed.”

Sifa let out a long breath, “Why they could not wait until we got to Duke Howards’ castle.”

“It is the law, if a heart-reading is to be done, it and the judgement must be done before the next sunset.”

He stepped out of the tent and was joined by Christopher, who still looked angry.

“Peace, Christopher, you are not at fault.”

“Sevlem, I should have...”

“Should have what...read the minds of the ones who planned this. Only the gods can do that. Come, justice must be done.”

*******************

The place of judgement was nothing more than patch of sand that had be cleared and rope had been used to form some sort of barrier. He clearly remembered the first time he had heart-read someone, and it had been by accident, as it was a power that he didn’t know he possessed. That persons true heart had scared him and he had hidden for two days, until Sifa had found him.

He entered the makeshift arena and inclined his head towards Duke Anderson and Lord Howard. He turned to the priest, who set light to a incense burner. He breathed in the contents, the heady mix of perfume and the sharp scent of the Lisana Flower, that would aid his heart-reading. He already felt light-headed and this was making him even more fuzzy headed, but he knew that the effects were short-lived and soon his light-headedness would go and his vision and senses would be beyond the sharpness of any blade, and he would be seeing into the true hearts of the men that were now being brought into the place of judgement.

He blinked once or twice and then the Lisana Flower kicked in, and everything became so much sharper and clearer and louder. The calls of the Lords and the shouts of the rest of the crowd physically hurt his ears, and he raised his hand and silence fell.

He pointed at the first man in the line and he was pushed forward. Then man was trying his best not to look at him, until Christopher grabbed his head and the priest hissed.

“Look at the Sevlem.”

Matthew said to the obviously frightened man, “If your heart is more true than false, more light that dark, you have nothing to fear.”

He looked into the man’s eyes and placed a hand over the man’s heart. The intense feeling he got as he saw past whatever was on the surface of the man’s heart was a thrill, a rush. He did not stop until he reached the very core, the man’s true heart.

He stepped away and said out loud, “Your heart is more true than false. Take this chance and change, the God and Goddess only grant one such chance. The judgement is freedom.”

He went down the line, and another three were set free, but four were sentenced to hard labour, as their hearts were more false than true.

Then he came to the one that had struck him, and then man looked at him, with no fear in his eyes, only contempt.

“I have no need to heart-read you, I see it in your eyes, that your heart is truly false. May the God and Goddess judge you fairly in the afterlife. As the law decrees, you are banished to the Dark Lands. May your death be swift and without pain.”

The man smiled at him then and said, “The Dark is waiting for you, Sevlem.”

He turned away then and tried to block out the cheers of the crowd. The side-effects of the Lisana Flower were now overtaking his body and mind.

“Christopher...my tent...now.”

Some hours later, he found he could not rest...those words spoken by the man before he was dragged away stayed with him. It had sounded like a warning of something that was to come, but the man was not a seer or a mage.

He needed somewhere quiet to clear his thoughts, so he slipped out of the smaller exit to the tent used by the servants. He skirted round the camp fires and he found a small pool of water. He crouched down and scooped up a handful of water and tasted it; it hadn’t been tainted by man or beast, so he would be unseen.

He removed his veil with a sigh and the rest of his clothing and walked into the water, shivering lightly at the coolness against his skin. He started to recite a cleansing prayer, when a voice behind him said.

“You know, if you don’t want your future husband to see you before the wedding, you really should keep your clothes on.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominic see a lot more of the Sevlem....but regrets it.

Dominic was walking towards the Sevlem’s tent. He wanted to see how he was faring after his injury and then having to use magic at the Judgement. He’s attended Judgement’s with his father, even presided over some lesser cases, but he’d never seen one involving a heart-reading...and he wondered if the Sevlem would heart-read him.

He was approaching the tent when someone exited the servants entrance that was definitely not a servant....where was the Sevlem going? He could see Christopher, but he was still standing at the main entrance; so, the Sevlem didn’t want anyone to see him. Well that hadn’t worked, so he decided to follow him, but at a distance.

The Sevlem was skirting around the fires, and Dominic had to admire his skills. He nearly lost sight of him when he ducked into some scrub, then had to clamber over some rocks and into a small gulley. He stopped when he saw the Sevlem halt beside a small pool of water....was he?

His heart began to race when the Sevlem removed his veil, and his breath hitched when he began to strip. Once again he was privy to a view of that well-tone back and the tattoo, but he didn’t stop and continued stripping.....dear Goddess, he had the body of a warrior, lean but well muscled, and had the most delicious looking arse.

But it was that tattoo that took his attention. He thought it was only on his back and shoulder, but it wound round his hips and down one leg, ending at the ankle. It looked like a serpent, but he couldn't be sure; then the Sevlem waded into the pool, and he couldn’t remain hidden any more.

He stepped out from his hiding place and stopped by the Sevlem’s discarded clothes and said.

“You know, if you don’t want your future husband to see you before the wedding, you really should keep your clothes on.”

The Sevlem jumped, but didn’t turn.

“Lord Howard, you should leave before Christopher catches you.”

“That would be a miracle, since he’s still standing outside your tent. Aren’t you going to turn, I’d rather see your face than your back, attractive as it is.”

“No, just go away. Christopher may not be here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t protect my virtue.”

This was getting even better, he was a virgin, which made him even more tantalising.

“Well, if you won’t face me, I suppose I’ll have to join you. Just let me strip.”

No!” the Sevlem said. “I’ll come out, turn around and let me get dressed.”

“Oh, I think I like you undressed,” he replied and stepped into the water.

The Sevlem said something in that strange language, then he turned and Dominic stopped...by the gods he was stunning. His pale skin and dark hair had already told Dominic that he was from the Northern Lands, but the tattoo that was drawn on the opposite side to the other tattoo told him that he was from the Mountain people; all males were tattooed in such a way.

But those cut-glass cheekbones and defined features and what he could only describe as glacial blue eyes would have made him stand out, even amongst a people that were visually striking already. It must have taken some persuasion to allow him to be taken to the Temple, the Mountain people rarely left their snow clad citadels, which made him even more curious as to why the Sevlem had not been married to the High King’s oldest son and heir.

The Sevlem was saying something, so he blinked to regain his concentration.

“Look, this water is cold and blue is so not my colour.”

Dominic smiled at the hint of irritation in the Sevlem’s voice...he was starting to enjoy this unexpected encounter. 

“Then let me warm you up,” he said and moved further into the water

Those glacial eyes were narrowed.

“Any closer and I will have to hurt you.”

“Really, I can’t see how, since you don’t have anywhere to hide a weapon.”

“Don’t need a weapon,” the Sevlem replied and moved to his left, which Dominic countered by moving as well, and the same when he moved to the right.

Dominic was nearly caught out when the Sevlem feigned a move to the right, but went left instead. As the Sevlem made to get past him he reached out and grabbed one of his arms and pulled him towards him. But if he thought the Sevlem was going to give, he was sadly mistaken, as he suddenly found himself underwater.

He struggled up and it took a few moments for him to orientate himself and for his eyes to stop stinging. When his eyes could focus again, he saw the Sevlem had made it to the bank and was hastily dressing.....oh no. he wasn’t going to get away, he wasn’t going to bested that easily.

By the time he’d gotten out of the water, the Sevlem was half dressed and was making for the scrub.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said and managed to catch an arm and using his unarmed combat training, somehow got the Sevlem to the ground and underneath him.

“Let me up, Pajta!” the Sevlem spat, but Dominic just grinned at the order and the insult, because he could see and feel that the Sevlem wasn’t as angry as he sounded.

“My, aren’t we a little firebrand...how about a deal. I won’t tell anyone that you sneaked off without an escort in return for a kiss.”

Icy blue eyes were suddenly locked on his.

“A kiss for your silence,” the Sevlem said. “Seems fair.”

Dominic grinned and moved closer and the sensation he felt when their lips met was unlike anything he’d felt when kissing other men...then he felt pain as the Sevlem’s knee connected with his groin.

The Sevlem pushed him off and away and scrambled up. He looked down at Dominic, who eyes were already watering.

“Like I said, I can defend my virtue without Christopher. You will not my face again until our marriage. And you will not see me naked until our wedding night...and Sora ointment is wonderful for bruising.”

By the time Dominic could get up, the Sevlem as gone, but he could hear the faint sound of laughing and Duke Anderson’s words came back to him.

“Oh, I think they would have a nasty surprise with our Blessed of the Heavens.”

He was right.....painfully right, but despite the pain he was in at the moment, he had seen and felt that the Sevlem had reacted physically to his closeness...the wedding night was going to be interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

“I do not want to hear your excuses.”

“But my Lord, there were too many mages. I would have been killed.”

“So you ran to save you worthless skin.”

“I apologise, my Lord. Next time I will be more prepared.”

“Next time, there will be no next time for you.”

“No......please, I can bring him to you.”

“I give no second chances.”

“My Lord, plea...........”

The room echoed with a scream, but it was short lived.

“Dispose of that, and find me someone who can perform the simplest task. I want the Sevlem laid out on this altar and his still beating heart in my hands.”

*********************

“Sevlem, are you all right?”

“I am fine, Christopher.”

“Are you sure, you seem distracted.”

“Just a little nervous about meeting Duke Howard and the wedding. I’m also still a little shaky from the attempted abduction.”

He saw Christopher shoulders slump and his head begin to lower.

“It was not your fault, they infiltrated the camp during the night. I am fine and we are not far from the city and Duke Howard’s stronghold. At least your duties will be much easier.”

He raised an eyebrow when Christopher snorted.

“It will much harder, as it will only be two days to the wedding. I have seen the way Lord Howard looks at you,I foresee you will need more protection.”

Matthew was glad of the veil, as it hid the blush that heated his face, at the memory of their encounter at the pool of water. At first he had been angry, but when they had tussled in the water and then on the bank, he found he was no longer as angry. In fact he found he was enjoying it...perhaps a little too much; especially when Lord Howard had pinned him down.

“At least it will only be two days.”

“Then you will not need me any more, Sevlem.”

Matthew reined in his horse, causing Christopher to stop.

“Christopher, you have been my protector since I was fifteen . I would not want anyone else to protect me, and I’m am sure that Lord Howard will not object. And the God and Goddess willing, you will protect our children.”

He smiled when he saw Christopher straighten and his shoulders go back; there was the Christopher he knew. For fifteen years he had lived within the walls of the temple and Christopher had been his protector and friend for ten years. He had taught him the difference between the art of war and the reality of having to kill someone, and that killing was nothing to be proud of.

“It is not far to the city, are you prepared to be stared at, Sevlem?” Chris said.

*********************

Dominic had kept away from the Sevlem since the encounter, but of course he was the only thing on his mind. He’d been busy organising the large column in readiness for the unavoidable parade through the city. But now he had to ride with the Sevlem, as it was expected of him to escort his intended.

He approached the part of the column that was the Sevlem’s entourage. Since the carriage had been destroyed the Sevlem was on horseback. He was once again veiled, but his riding clothes clung to that fine looking body in a most distracting way.

His view was blocked by Christopher, who placed his horse between them.

“Christopher, why don't you go and check on Matron Sifa and the gift I have brought for Duke Howard.”

“Sevlem?”

“Christopher, I am sure I am safe with Lord Howard.”

Christopher gave Dominic a look that clearly said ‘don’t touch’ before wheeling round and cantering away. Dominic took his place alongside the Sevlem.

“Your bodyguard distrusts me.”

“Christopher distrusts any man that is old enough to have what he calls improper thoughts.”

“Then it is a good thing that he didn’t notice you were gone last night.”

“Indeed, or you would be missing certain parts of your anatomy.”

Dominic winced internally. “Sevlem, I hope what occurred last night will not sour our marriage before it has even began?”

He never did hear the reply as Christopher returned, along with Matron Sifa. They rode in silence after that, and soon they were on the outskirts of the city, passing through the settlement that spread out along the city walls.

He could feel the tension coming off of Christopher, as people stopped their work and stared; they hadn’t been expecting the see the Sevlem, let alone to be on horseback. It was worse when they entered the city, as the streets were festooned in the colours of the temple and the Howard clan, and people were lining the route, all curious to see the Sevlem.

Dominic was watching the Sevlem, who seemed to be taking it in his stride, but then he would have been use to such pomp, being a priest. Suddenly a small child burst out from the crowd, right under the Sevlem’s horse’s nose. It shied away and reared up, and Dominic had a good view of the way the Sevlem’s muscles moved as he kept control of the stallion.

The child cowered away from the beast, but the Sevlem, now in control of his mount again dismounted and approached the child, who was carrying a small basket of fruit. Dominic moved his horse closer, so he could hear what was being said.

“What have you got there, little one?” the Sevlem said, in that same melodious tone he’s heard when he he had spoken from inside the carriage.

The child said nothing and a woman emerged from the crowd.

“Forgive her, Sevlem, she wanted to give you a gift. She picked the Passa fruit herself, from our first and finest crop.”

“There is nothing to forgive, mother,” he said and picked up one of the fruits and smelt it. “It is indeed a fine fruit, I shall enjoy eating it. I will pray to the Earth Mother that your crop and all of the crops are bountiful.”

The woman smiled and picked up her child.

“The God and Goddess bless you, Sevlem,” she said before disappearing back into the crowd, who were now even more excited; the Sevlem was what they hoped he would be.

The Sevlem handed the basket to one of the hand-maidens before remounting.

By the time they reached the Duke’s stronghold, the crowds were large as those behind had followed, they were only stopped by the large gates that shut after the entourage had entered. Dominic joined his father, who was waiting on the steps, in his full armour and colours.

“Welcome back, son. I am glad to see you are well. Lord Kirk informed me about what happened in the Wildlands. I will speak to the High King about this, but for now, I must greet the Sevlem.”

Matron Sifa moved forward when the Duke approached and curtsied.

“My Lord...may I present the Sevlem, who is named Matthew, son of Duke Bellamy...High Lord of the Mountains,” she said as the Sevlem removed his veil and bowed.

There was a small intake of breath from the courtiers that were gathered, and Dominic was taken aback...the Sevlem was basically royalty...even more so than the High King. The High Lords of the Mountains descended from an ancient line of Kings and now Dominic could see it, the fine features and glacial blue eyes, a trait that was passed on down the generations. He could see the surprise on his father’s face, but the Duke took it in his stride.

“You are welcome to my stronghold and lands, Matthew. Now, you should take some rest. I will escort you to your rooms.”

The Duke held out his hand and the Sevlem took it, smiling gently.

“I thank you for your hospitality, my Lord.”

“Please, call me father, as you will soon be my son-in-law.”

Dominic could only watch as his father led the Sevlem...well Matthew as he would call him now up the steps and into the stronghold.

“I knew it,” he heard Lord Rowe say, then he heard Lord Kirk say.

“What are the priests up to...he so should be marrying Prince Marcus,” and he found himself agreeing...what were the priest up to?

****************

“We are taking a great risk uniting these bloodlines....such power in one individual.”

“Agreed, but as the fires have shown me, the power within the Sevlem can only be released by a bloodline as ancient as his own. Why do you think the Lady Sara was chosen to marry Duke Howard...the blood of the High Lords of the Mountain will once again be mingled with the blood of the High Lords of the Desert. The Se’hai will be reborn to fight the Dark that is coming.”


	7. Chapter 7

Dominic walked past the rooms reserved for the Sevlem. He had to call him that, at least until they were at the altar. The ceremony was less than eighteen hours away, and the Sevlem and his personal entourage hadn’t been seen since Dominic’s father had greeted them on the steps. He’d been told by the servants that the two hand-maidens had been back and forth to the kitchens and the gardens, but when asked what the herbs and oils they collected were for, they were told to ‘mind their business.’

Dominic, of course had wanted to know, but he asked his the elderly librarian, who knowledge was far to superior to the gossip of the servants.

“The Sevlem must cleanse himself, very much like you will do. But it is more intricate with the Sevlem. He has to seek the blessing and the forgiveness of the God and Goddess.”

“Forgiveness?”

“He had to kill someone, did he not?”

“Yes, but only to defend himself.”

“He has to come to the ceremony without stain, and of course, his virginity intact.”

“Ah, so that’s why his bodyguard looks like he wants to kill me.”

“And he no doubt would have, if you were the kind of man that would have tried to do such a thing.”

He’d thanked the librarian and was once again grateful that no-one had found out about their short encounter. He stopped outside the rooms that were the Sevlem’s, but moved on quickly when he felt the eyes of the two temple guards on him.

In eighteen hours he would have all the time he wanted to learn about the Sevlem.

*********************  
“My spirit is tainted with the life blood of another. I beg forgiveness.”

Matthew poured some of the herb-laced oil into the steaming water.

“I give my purity in the name of unity and peace.”

He repeated the action.

“I ask that my husband is loving and faithful, and his heart is true.”

More oil was added.

“I beseech the Goddess that she may bless our union with healthy children.”

He poured the last of the oil into the water, then stepped into it and slipped beneath the surface, immersing himself in the herb infused liquid. He surfaced and bathed, knowing that he would only get an answer from the God and Goddess in his dreams.

He welcomed the coolness of the bed after the heat of the water and was soon lulled into sleep by it.

***********************

“Matthew...my little one.”

He opened his eyes and realised he was not in his bed any more.

“Matthew,” the voice called....a woman’s voice...soft and loving in the way it called his name. He looked round for the source of the voice and frowned; he knew where he was, he was back at his father’s stronghold, in the garden that he had played in as a child.

There was a woman sitting next to the small pool that was replenished by clear cold mountain water. He frowned, why did the woman look familiar?

“Come, sit with me,” she said and he felt compelled to do so.

He found himself looking into eyes that were the same colour as his. The woman spoke again.

“You have grown into a fine young man.”

Again he felt this woman was familiar.

“Your father must be so proud of you....I know I am.”

He blinked again, and finally found his tongue.

“Mother?”

“My little Matthew...so beautiful.”

“But you are dead.”

“True, I am. But I gave my life so that you could survive.”

“Mother....I.”

The woman reached out and placed a finger on his lips, “Ssh, little one, you are forgiven....”

The woman began to fade....no.

“Mother!”

******************

He woke with a start, his heart beating wildly, and his head a whirlpool of confusion. Why had the God and Goddess sent his mother?

“Sevlem....are you okay?” Matron Sifa’s voice broke through his confusion.

“I....” he couldn’t stop the tears and he kept crying even after Sifa wrapped him in her arms.

He pulled away from her hold and took in a steadying breath.

“I saw my mother.”

“Oh, the Goddess bless her.”

“Why did they do that?”

“Their ways are not ours to understand.”

“She said she was proud of me.”

“And she would have been, you have grown into a fine young man. I know she would have been so proud if she could watch you marry Lord Howard.”

“Sifa, did she suffer much pain? My father still refuses to speak to me about it.”

“The matron who attended your mother said it was a difficult birth, that she had to turn you while you were still in the womb.”

Matthew felt tears coming again, “She died because of me, didn’t she?”

No, no, you must never think that. The physician believes that something tore inside and she would have died no matter what. But she clung onto life, using what strength she had left to give birth to you, so that you would live and not die with her. But we should not talk of such things, you are to be married in a few hours. Now, go back to sleep, and I will pray that they do not send you such dreams again.”

He settled back again, but even as he slipped into sleep he could not rid himself of the image of his mother, and her soft voice and eyes the same colour as his.

*************************

Dominic hadn’t slept for more than a few hours, nerves keeping him awake, so he got up and dressed and took to wandering the empty corridors. He was looking out at the city when he felt a hand on his shoulder and his father’s voice.

“I couldn’t sleep on the night of my wedding either. Your mother was the most beautiful woman I had seen, and I still couldn’t believe that she wanted to be wed to me. Matthew is just as beautiful and a Sevlem, so I cannot fathom what you must be feeling.”

Dominic turned away from the window and faced his father.

“I still don’t understand why I am marrying him. He’s from royal blood and we are not, he should be marrying the High King’s son.”

“Dominic, it is the will of the God and Goddess, that and the fact the Prince Marcus is not worthy of Matthew. I sometimes fear what will become of the Kingdoms when he takes the throne.”

The sound of faint chanting drew their attention and they both look up at the night sky.

“The ceremony has started, the moon must be rising. Come son, you must prepare yourself for the Sevlem.”

*****************************

Author's Note: The ceremony and wedding night in the next chapter......


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write very good sex-scenes....so I don't, I imply and leave it to the readers imagination.

Matthew tried to be patient as the two hand-maidens fussed with the bejewelled veil, trying to get it to sit right.

“Misra!Enough!” he snapped, causing them to step back in alarm. He looked in the large looking glass. “By the Gates of Mirath, I look like I’ve fallen into a queen’s jewellery chest.”

“Would you rather go bare-headed?” Matron Sifa said, as she entered the dressing area, carrying a box. “Leave us, go prepare for the ceremony.”

They curtsied to Matthew and then Sifa and left.

“I did not mean to shout, I am nervous.”

“As you are entitled to be, it is your wedding day after all.”

Matthew sighed, then noticed the box.

“A gift from your husband to be.”

She set it on a dressing table and opened it.

“Oh, it is beautiful,” Matthew said. “Are those Moon-pool sapphires?”

“I believe they are, and Moonstones as well, with white gold from your own mountains. Lord Howard has good taste, here, let me put it on.”

Matthew once again looked in the seeing glass and fingered the jewels.

“They bring out the colour of your eyes,Sevlem,” Sifa said, as she adjusted the veil. “My little Sevlem, you have never looked so radiant.”  
She then covered his face with the veil.

“Are you ready, Sevlem?”

He let out a long breath and nodded.

“I am ready.”

*********************

Dominic went to adjust the collar of his tunic, but his hand was slapped away by Thomas.

“Leave it Dominic, it took me long enough to get it just so,” he said as he adjusted a gold-threaded sash over Dominic’s shoulder.

“This is worse that facing a horde of Vellacs.”

“At least he’s prettier than a horde of Vellacs.”

“That he is,” Dominic said, his mind going back to that pool of water.

“Dominic, do you like him, as a person?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“Then that’s all that matters...there, I’m done.”

“Thomas, do you think he liked my wedding gift?”

“Who wouldn't, but I think this Sevlem isn’t one to be dazzled by baubles.”

A knock at the door stopped the conversation.

“Are you ready, Lord Howard?”

Dominic gave his collar a final tug, then said.

“Yes.”

*********************  
The slow steady beat of the drums echoed across the city, telling the citizens that the wedding ceremony was beginning. They knew its zenith would be when the moon was at it highest and fullest, but the celebrations would go onto until the sun rose. They could only imagine what the ceremony would be like; they would have to wait for the storytellers.

The whole city was abuzz, a Sevlem joining the Howard clan was historic and would change their whole fortune. But tonight was not about politics, it was for celebrating and all eyes turned to the Duke’s stronghold.

**********************

Dominic was hit by the scent of whatever flowers, herbs and spices they were burning, as he stood at the altar, waiting for the Sevlem. The drums were making his blood hot, the primal sound resonating through him. He knew why they were played and they burnt the incense. It was to fire the blood of the couple for the wedding night, a ritual as old as marriage itself, if not older. Not that he needed his blood or his desire heated up, his brief encounter with the Sevlem had done that already.

He looked round at the very select guests and saw his father standing at the back, waiting for the Sevlem. He smiled but it was a smile fuelled by nerves.

“Lord Howard.”

He turned at his name, it was the priest, bringing his attention back to the altar. The drums stopped and a haunting melody replaced it. He heard the rustle of clothes as the guests stood. He took a steadying breath; his husband to be was here.

*************************

Matthew didn’t need the drums or the incense to make his heart race or fire up his blood. He’d felt the spark of attraction when he had encountered Lord Howard that night. He stopped at the entrance to the small temple.

He bowed to Duke Howard before allowing him to link arms and begin the walk towards the altar. He could see Lord Howard and he was still as handsome.

But for now he had to concentrate on the ceremony. He knew how it would proceed, having attended the marriages of many nobles families. But he hadn’t been nervous like he was now, as they approached the joining of blood.

This was the most important part, it was when the pairing would know if the union was blessed by the God and the Goddess. He watched as Lord Howard held out his hand, presenting his palm, and watched his face, smiling when he didn't wince as the priest cut the offered palm with the blade and tilted his hand, allowing a few drops of blood to fall into a bowl.

He tensed when the priest held out a hand to him, but he didn’t flinch when he felt the blade cut into his palm. He watched as the blood dripped into the bowl and listened as the priest recited the incantation of the blessing.

He sighed with relief when the blood did not bubble and smoke...they had blessed this union.

The priest took his hand and held it against Lord Howard’s and wrapped a silken tie around their wrists, pulling it tight to allow their blood to mingle.

“The blood of the Howard line and the Bellamy line are joined. Let no man tear it apart, lest they curse themselves and incur the wrath of the gods themselves.”

He held up their joined hands and the guests then applauded.

*****************

As was expected they attended the feast that followed, but Dominic was itching to remove that veil and the rest of the Sevlem’s , no Matthew’s clothes.

But first the Sevlem had to present his gift for Duke Howard, and it was a fine gift. It was two swords made from the finest Mountain steel, the most prized of metals, made by the Mountain Blacksmiths, who were famed and sort after for their skills. But eventually they made their excuses and left.  
Dominic lead Matthew into what were now their chambers. He smiled when Matthew let out a long breath and said.

“Can you please take this veil off, it’s like wearing chain-mail.”

“With pleasure,” he replied and carefully removed the veil...dear Goddess, he’d forgotten how stunning Matthew was, even more so now he was standing in front of him in those shades of purple, adorned with the Moon-pool and Moonstone necklace, that only heightened the colour of those oh so blue eyes.

“So...my Sevlem.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow, “That’s very formal, Lord Howard.”

“Perhaps, but I hardly know you , yet we are expected to....you know.”

“Have sex, you mean. Well, that is what wedding nights are for. Just because I haven’t lain with a man, doesn’t mean I am naive. The temple does have an extensive..............”

Dominic silenced him by kissing him, and he tasted exactly how he expected him to taste...exotic, a mix of the fruit and wine from the feast, and what was Matthew’s unique taste. It was a heady brew, along with that scent he’d first smelt back at their first meeting.

Matthew pulled away from the kiss, but only for a few moments before he returned the kiss. They broke away to draw breath and Dominic held out his hand and Matthew took it, allowing him to lead him into the bed chamber, where he took his Sevlem and revelled in the soft cries and moans of the man beneath him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An enemy is made.....and the position of the serpent's fangs will be important.

Matthew opened his eyes slowly and blinked the sleep away. He smiled at the memory of last night; he was happy albeit somewhat sore. But that would pass and he thanked the God and Goddess that his husband was a gentle and considerate lover.

Husband....it felt strange to think it...oh, he knew he would have been married to someone, perhaps to seal an alliance or to settle a dispute before it turned to war. Which was why he was surprised it had been Lord Howard that he had been paired with. But then again, after meeting Prince Marcus, he would have mated with a Vellac , rather than with Marcus; the man made his skin crawl, the way he looked at him, like he was something that he had the right to own.

Now he couldn’t see himself with anyone else but Dominic; he’d known that somehow from their very first words back at the crossroads.

“Good morning, my Sevlem,”Dominic’s voice said. He turned in the direction of the voice; Dominic was looking at him and smiling.

“Good morning, my Lord Howard,” he replied, returning the smile.

“I really should call you Matthew,” Dominic said, drawing him into his arms.  
“Perhaps, but I like the way you say Sevlem.”

“Then I shall call you that when we are alone.”

“I would like that,” he said through a yawn and tried to get closer to Dominic.

“Sorry, as much as I would love to spend the rest of the day and the night in bed with you, we cannot. I have instructed the servants to draw a bath, then we can breakfast before we go to the stables and the kennels.”

*********************

Dominic had woken before Matthew and had sat and watched his now husband and lover sleep. He still could not believe that he was married to such a beautiful man. He still could not fathom the reason why Matthew had been paired with him and not to Prince Marcus or some high -ranking nobleman. Pairing the Sevlem with either would build or strengthen many ties between the higher families.

He was once again taken by that tattoo, it was definitely a serpent, but it looked like no serpent he had seen or heard of. The head of the serpent was laying just above Matthew's heart, its fangs on show, the eyes obsidian black. He shivered as it looked like the serpents eyes were looking right at him and did he see a glimmer in them....don’t be a fool, it’s just a tattoo.

His observations stopped when Matthew began to stir, and when those sapphire eyes were levelled at him, he forgot the tattoo completely.

Now he was sharing a bath with the owner of those eyes and his eyes casually flicked towards the serpent’s head....once again he thought it was staring at him, but if he could believe it, it looked less threatening. He chided himself for being a superstitious fool and said.

“So, you are basically royalty.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow, then shrugged his shoulders.

“There hasn’t been a Mountain King in over a thousand years. The smallest mouse in this place is more royal than me. But your family, it goes right back to the time of the Great Wars.”

“And they probably served one of your ancestors.”

“You better not start bowing to me.”

Dominic laughed, “You are probably going to be the next High Priest and you are Sevlem. The God and Goddess themselves speak to you, so it seems. It would be an insult if I did not bow to you.”

That earned him another quirk of an eyebrow.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to show you that you are my equal.”

Dominic watched as Matthew closed the short distance between them, and he could swear he saw fire in those icy blue eyes.

*********************

“So, Christopher, why did you become a bodyguard. Surely as an Easterner, you would join Duke Anderson’s elite soldiers?” Lord Kirk asked.

He and Lord Rowe had been trying to talk to the tall Easterner, since he was the Sevlem’s bodyguard and they were Dominic’s. It was rare to see an Easterner outside of their own borders, and if they did, they were often within the ranks of the elite forces, trained and serving under Duke Anderson.

They were at breakfast along with the rest of the minor lords that served Duke Howard. Christopher stopped eating and seemed to consider his answer before speaking.

“I found trying to keep someone alive far less of a stain on my soul than trying to take someone's life.”

“How long have you been the Sevlem’s bodyguard?”Lord Rowe asked.

“Since he was fifteen. It was my honour to teach him the realities of war, and my loyalty is not one that can be brought. I will lay down my own life to protect the Sevlem.”

Both of then nodded; they would not expect anything else, they would lay their own lives down for Dominic’s.

“Anyone that tries to harm the Sevlem should expect no mercy either. But enough talk about myself, let us talk about what is to happen today.”

***************************

Matthew had seen many fine looking horses in his time, but Duke Howard's stable was full of the most stunning animals. Not just horses, but Lassa Hounds, gentle giants within their kennels, but when hunting full grown Lassa, they were ferocious.

Not so the pups that were trying to eat the straps of his riding boots.

“How am I suppose to chose just two out of this lot,” he said, looking at Dominic for help.

“Don’t look at me,” he said, seemingly highly amused by his dilemma.

Duke Howard had as part of his wedding gift given him the choice of a horse and two of the hounds. The horse had been easy; the golden sheen of the Western bred taking his eye immediately....but adorable pups that were all legs and ears and big eyes, now that was hard.

“What do you think?” he asked, looking at Christopher and the two Lords that were Dominic’s companions and bodyguards.

“The one with the dark patch over it’s ear seems friendly,” Lord Kirk said.

“But the one with the black splotch on his back is well grown,” Lord Rowe said.

“You should pick neither, Sevlem. See the two that are hanging back, see how they stay close to each other. If they come to you as a pair, of their own accord,then they are the ones you should pick,” Christopher said.

********************************

That had been this morning, but now he was back in the role of Sevlem and Lord Howard’s husband; there was no such thing as time alone with your new husband in some quiet place. He was receiving congratulations from yet another dignitary and their families, who openly stared at him like he had two heads.

“And the next will be Lord Nicholls and his son Morgan, who is an exceptional physician,” the elderly official informed him,

Matthew accepted the congratulations with the same grace as he had the countless others, but this time he said to the official.

“We should invite Morgan to become our personal physician.”

“It will be done, Sevlem.”

There was something about Lord Nicholl’s son....it felt like he should be part of his and Dominic’s live ,and he had long ago learnt to listen to those feelings...Morgan was important.

The sound of a commotion outside drew his attention, and the closed doors were suddenly thrown open.

“You cannot just......”

The intruder shoved the person that had protested, causing him to fall to the floor. Matthew felt Christopher tense next to him, then start to move when the figure advanced towards him. He placed a restraining hand on Christopher’s arm. He said to the official.

“Find Lord Howard.”

Then he turned his attention to the advancing figure.

“Your Highness, how nice of you to come all this way to congratulate my husband and myself.”

“You know that is not why I am here. You were supposed to be mine.”

“I am not something to be owned, Your Highness,” he replied, trying to sound unfazed. He could sense Christopher tensing again; his dislike for Prince Marcus had never been honey-coated by diplomacy.

“The God and the Goddess did not will it, Marcus.”

Marcus snorted in derision, “You mean the High Priest and Priestess did not will it. Why are they mating you to this mongrel.”

He couldn’t ignore that jibe, “I am not a dog, Your Highness,” he said, his sharp tone causing Christopher to step forward.

“Sevlem, let me throw this cur out.”

“Christopher, he is the heir to the High Throne. You cannot, unless I order it. I suggest you leave my presence Your Highness, before I decide to let Christopher do as he wishes to do.”

“I am not scared of your trained pit hound. My father will have his head if he touches me.”

“But he wont have mine if I touch you,” Dominic’s voice came from behind Marcus.

Dominic had his sword half-drawn from its scabbard and was staring intently at Prince Marcus.

“I suggest you do as my husband requests and leave. Go back and hide behind your father’s chain-mail.”

Marcus walked up to Dominic, leant forward and said, “Enjoy bedding that pretty prize. He won’t be yours for long.”

Matthew held his breath as he saw Dominic move slightly, and let the breath out when Marcus left the room.

“Are you okay?” Dominic asked.

“The Sevlem was never in danger,” Christopher said. “I would have cut him in two, Prince or no Prince if he had tried to harm him.”

“Marcus won’t forget this, he is a vindictive and dark soul,” Matthew said.

“He’s bound for the Dark, that’s for sure,” Dominic said. “But enough of him, and enough of this. It’s think it is time for us to have some time to ourselves. Walk with me, Matthew, let me show you around my home.”

**************************

High Prince Marcus was not pleased...he’d been humiliated by the Priesthood, being told without words that he was not good enough for their precious Sevlem. He had wanted that pretty creature since he’d seen him at the Winter Solstice, even more so when he had engaged him in conversation, and he couldn’t wait to get him into his bed; he would show him what Sevlem’s were for.

That had all been shattered when it was pronounced that the Sevlem was to wed Duke Howard’s whelp and was already on his way to the Duke’s land. His confrontation with said whelp after the marriage and the Sevlem’s dismissal of him had only fuelled his anger.

He was going to have the Sevlem, whether the Sevlem wanted it or not.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: There is a description of rape in this chapter....a terrible act that will start a war.

Summer eventually gave way to the less balmy days of Autumn, but to Matthew it was reminder of the summer’s when he had lived in his father’s mountain stronghold. He enjoyed the feel of the cooler breeze as he walked along the covered walkway, the now familiar click of the paws of the Lassa Hounds behind him.

He was on his way to see their physician as he had done regularly for the last month. He had been feeling out of sorts for a while, and he had his suspicions as to why. He had gone to the family temple and had consulted with the Goddess, and the dream he had that night confirmed his suspicions.

He stopped when the breeze brought the scent of apples to him and he was tempted to wander off into the orchard, but a sudden wave of nausea reminded him of where he should be. He called for the hounds, who had wandered off into the orchard, perhaps in the hope of finding a rabbit or two. They trotted back, their loping gait making short work of the distance. They were no longer pups, but were almost fully grown, standing at hip height already.

He continued towards his destination, but he knew that after today, things would be different. He stopped at the door and knocked.

“Enter...ah, Matthew. Please sit...so, how have you been feeling?”

Morgan was just finishing his examination when the door suddenly flew open and an annoyed looking Dominic strode in.

*********************

It had been four months since their wedding and Dominic felt that he and Matthew had grown closer as they had learned more about each other. He found out that Matthew liked to stand in the rain and turn in a circle until he was giddy and soaked to the skin. He learnt how those oh so blue eyes blazed with fire when they had their first fight; he really was a spitfire when he was riled, and it made him love him even more.

But at this moment he felt like he did not know Matthew at all. He had been stand-offish and was snapping at him and the servants...well anyone within earshot. Yet in bed he had been as fiery and as passionate, if not more so. But what was more worrying was that sometimes Matthew had been unwell, and had been missing from some of his duties as the Sevlem and as his equal; people were starting to notice.

Then he found out that Matthew had been seeing their physician and he hadn’t known, and he would not have if hadn’t overheard two of the house servants talking about why they thought the Sevlem was seeing the physician.

As he walked towards Morgan’s treatment rooms his annoyance increased. Why had not Matthew confided in him? What was so bad that he could not tell him and that he should be kept in the dark?

His annoyance wasn’t fuelled by anger, but by worry and fear. Was there something so terribly wrong that he was going to loose his husband of less than half a year?

He did not bother knocking since he knew that Matthew was inside, he just threw the door open. There was that moment of stillness and silence as the two people inside were surprised by his sudden entrance....then it went rapidly volcanic.

Morgan scowled and stepped forward, not afraid to confront Dominic.

“You are violating the privacy of a patient and their physician...please leave.”

Dominic did not move, but said. “Not if it is concerning my husband, it is not. I have a right to know.”

Morgan was going to answer but he was cut off by Matthew, who had been silent. He moved and stood facing Dominic, and Dominic could see he was actually trembling slightly...was he that angry?

“Your right to know...do you think that I am your property...a chattel? Do you think that I have to tell you where I am at every grain of sand in a hour glass.I am not...I am Sevlem, I am heir to the Mountain Kingdom...”

Matthew paused for second and did Dominic see tears in his eyes as he spoke again.

“And now, something which I do not now know is a good thing, I am carrying your child!”

With that he pushed past a stunned Dominic and was gone.

Dominic could only stare at the empty space.

“Child...he is...”

“Yes,” Morgan said. “He is pregnant, six weeks in fact.”

Dominic shook himself mentally and frowned.

“Why did he not tell me?”

Morgan put an hand on his shoulder. “He wanted to wait, the first six weeks are when a miscarriage is more likely to happen. He was going to tell you today....but not in such angry circumstances.”

Dominic did not know what to say...learning that he was going to be a father still not sunken in.

“Go after him, Dominic,” Morgan said.

Dominic did not need to be told twice and he hurried out of the room....but where would Matthew go. He stopped and thought for a second...of course, find the two Lassa Hounds and you would find Matthew; they never left his side.

It still took him some time to find the hounds, they were sitting outside the door to their private garden. Matthew must be really angry and upset, if he had shut the hounds out. The hounds stood at his approached and whined to be let in to be with their master. He opened the door and let the hounds lead him to where Matthew was within the garden.

He was sitting by the ornamental pool that contained rare fish and other water life, one hand trailing in the water. Dominic saw him tense as he sensed that he was there.

“Have you come to demand something else, my Lord Howard.”

His name was said with such sarcasm that Dominic winced. Taking a steadying breath, he moved and sat opposite Matthew, who turned his head away and looked down into the pool.

“Matthew....my Sevlem...I should not have said what I said. I should have kept quiet and listened. My love, I understand now why you kept this secret. So, I am to be a father?”

Matthew did look at him then, was there a hesitant smile, then he nodded.

Dominic returned the smile, then placed a hand on Matthew’s cheek.

“My beautiful Sevlem.”

Matthew took a breath, then said, “ I am sorry as well...my temper is not usually so short.”

“It is understandable, but it is in the past now. We should look to the future.”

Matthew nodded and when Dominic opened his arms he willing placed himself within them.

“Yes, our future.”

************************

“I do not like this,” Dominic said.

“Dominic, it is something that I have to do. It is part of my duties as a priest.”

“Can you not perform the rites at our family temple.”

“No, it must be done at the Earth Mother’s shrine. If I do not, then she may not bless the fields for the spring crop. I will not be alone, I will have Christopher , along with the temple guards.”

Dominic sighed, “Fine, if you have to go, then you have to go. I shall go with you.”

Matthew shook his head.

“Dominic, with your father away in the High King’s capital, you as his son are the one in charge. You must stay.”

Dominic could not argue any more, and he could only watch as the preparations for the journey began. 

A few hours later, the entourage was waiting at the gates and Dominic took Christopher to one side.

“Do not let him out of your sight, Christopher.”

Christopher inclined his head.

“My Lord, I will, and have no fear, I will protect the Sevlem.”

Matthew appeared, dressed in his riding clothes, it still fitted him, but they knew that soon his pregnancy would show. When he returned from the Earth Mother’s shrine, they would announce that they were to be parents.

He embraced Matthew and kissed him, then whispered in his ear, “Be safe, my Sevlem.”

Matthew just smiled and allowed Dominic to give him a leg-up onto his horse.

“I will see you in two days, my husband,” he said, then urged his mount forward.

Dominic watched as the party rode out of the gate, then turned to Lord Kirk.

“Give it an hour, then follow at a safe distance.”

“Yes, my lord. Dominic, he will be safe. He has Christopher and the Temple guards, any sane man would not try their luck. And we will not be far behind them.”

Dominic nodded, but he could not shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

*********************

The journey to the Earth Mother’s Shrine was uneventful, and Matthew was well aware that Dominic had sent some of his men to follow them

The party rode into the outer compound of the temple. Chris suddenly reined his horse in.

“Sevlem, something does not feel right.”

Before Matthew could reply, the door to the inner compound opened and the Senior priest appeared.

“Forgive our tardiness, Sevlem. The Inner Sanctum is ready. Your guards will be fed and given a bed for the night.”

Matthew hesitated, did the priest sound nervous? He dismissed the thought immediately and followed the priest, knowing that Christopher was just behind him. The feeling that something was not quite right returned, but once again he put it out of his mind; he was tired, and the ceremony was going to make it a long night.

He was suddenly startled by noise filtering in from outside, and it did not sound like a good noise.

“Christopher,” he said, but it was not Christopher that answered.

“Your pit hound has been leashed, my pretty little Sevlem.”

Prince Marcus stepped out of the shadows. He tried to back away, but Marcus was quicker and grabbed him by his arm.

“M-marcus, what are you doing?”

Marcus began dragging him further into the Inner Sanctum and past frightened looking priests, held by men with knives. He could hear Christopher somewhere in the distance, and he sounded enraged.

Christopher’s angry bellows were cut-off by the heavy doors of the Altar Chamber. Only then did Marcus speak.

“I am going to show you who you belong to.”

It dawned on him with sickening clarity, as to what Marcus was going to do, and he was going to do it here.

“M-marcus, p-please...not h-here.”

Marcus sneered at his plea and backhanded him, causing him to stumble and fall against the altar.

“Do you think I am afraid of your gods?” he snarled and hauled him up, ripping his clothes as he did.

His stomach lurched as Marcus spun him and his upper body was slammed onto the altar, and the rest of his clothes were ripped away. He closed his eyes and prayed to the God and Goddess to take away the pain that was to come.

He cried out when Marcus entered him, the pain was intense since Marcus was not concerned with his comfort. Waves of nausea rolled through him with every thrust and grunt; he actually vomited when he felt Marcus come inside him.

He could faintly hear the sounds of fighting, but that faded when Marcus hauled him away from the altar and proceeded to beat him. Marcus only stopped when the sound of fighting got closer.

“He will not want you now,” he snarled and kicked him hard in the stomach.

Then he was gone, no doubt through some pre-planned escape route. He could hear the heavy doors of the Altar Chamber being shaken, he had to get up. He got to his hands and knees, the pain at every moment felt like knives. He went to stand but a searing pain tore through his stomach....no, the baby...then darkness took him.

**********************

Lord Kirk was watching the temple from his vantage point.

“Something does not feel right,” he said to his second-in-command. “We should be hearing the priests.”

Then he saw a flicker of something and he whirled round.

“Get everyone armed and mounted, that is no ceremonial fire.”


	11. Chapter 11

Lord Kirk cut down another of what turned out to be a marauder from the Wild Lands. He had a target in mind, a target that was struggling against his chains, and was trying to pull them from the pillar they were attached to.

He ran down another marauder, then hauled his horse to a stop. He dismounted and drew his longsword from its place on his saddle. He could see that Christopher had realised what he was going to do and had stopped struggling. With one down stroke, he sliced through the chains. Christopher didn’t speak, but Lord Kirk could see murder in his eyes, and there was a silent snarl on his bruised and bloodied face.

Lord Kirk didn’t resist when Christopher grabbed his longsword, he just re-drew his broadsword and followed him into the temple.

Then he saw why Christopher had been chosen to be the Sevlem’s bodyguard. He wielded the sword like it was a broadsword, and the temple walls were spattered with the blood and viscera of the marauders that were taken down with it.

The pair reached the doors of the altar room and Christopher dropped the longsword, and tried to push the door.

“Sevlem!” he yelled.

“Where is the priest!?” Lord Kirk shouted. He turned when he heard footfalls; it was his second-in-command and one of the acolytes.

“Where is the priest?”

“He is dead, as are all but the youngest acolytes. This one says it will have been bolted from the inside.”

Christopher let out a cry of frustration and hammered on the door.

“Sevlem.....Matthew!”

************************

Matthew thought he heard his name being called, and it sounded like Christopher. He forced his eyes open and turned his head towards the sound......was someone banging on the door? It was bolted and they wouldn’t be able to get in, perhaps he should open it. He blinked to try and clear the blood and sweat that was stinging his eyes...wait, was someone calling his name; his head felt very fuzzy. He was sure there was something he should be doing, was it opening the door before the person hammering on it broke it?

He tried to get to his feet, but a wave of pain drove him back to his hands and knees. The pain made him vomit, and it was more blood than bile.

He had to get to the door, so he crawled on his hands and knees, and used the carved surface of the doors to pull himself up. He grabbed the bolt, well tried to, but his hands were slick with his own blood.

“Goddess help me,” he groaned, he didn’t have the strength, and he could feel the dark approaching.

Then he felt it, a surge of the power that he only felt when he was weaving an enchantment. The bolt began to move, slowly but it was definitely moving. The surge of power caused him more pain, which became white hot when the bolt suddenly shot back. He was forced back to the floor by the movement, and as the surge of power left him, so did his last vestige of conciousness.

**************************

Dominic hadn’t slept, the feeling that something wasn’t right had plagued him all night. Hence he was very tired and the noise from the city seemed to carry right to his ears. He frowned, the sounds didn’t sound like the normal sounds of the city.

Then he heard shouts from within the stronghold, and the door to his chamber were flung open by Lord Rowe.

“Glen, what is all the noise about?”

“Lord Howard, you should come with me.”

He was immediately tense.

“Glen, what is going on?”

“Dominic...please, just come with me.”

He wasn’t sure of how he found himself at the main gates, and he didn’t care when Lord Kirk and his men rode into the courtyard. He was expecting to see Matthew, but only saw his horse ; perhaps it was lame.

His eyes roamed over the group but he couldn’t see him, but he saw Christopher, he was holding someone in front of him....sudden he saw who.

************************

“Fetch me more hot water!” Morgan snapped at one of his assistants. “And can someone tell them to calm Lord Howard!”

He tried to tune out the noise, it was hard enough keeping a relative calm inside, since it seemed like his assistants had gone to pieces.

“For the love of Velas, I know this is the Sevlem and Lord Howard’s beloved, but he is also a patient that is eight weeks pregnant and has been raped and severely beaten. So how about we do our best to treat his injuries and save this baby.”

Matthew suddenly moved under his hands...no, please don’t come round now.

“Give him some more Verica,” he said as Matthew’s movements became more animated.  
Then he shifted violently and his eyes snapped open.

“Matthew....lay still,” Morgan said, trying to calm him with his voice. But there was no recognition in those eyes, only pain and fear.

“Where is that Verica!?”

One of his assistants appeared and placed a cloth over Matthew’s nose and mouth, panic replacing the fear, until seconds later Matthew was gone again.

He worked quickly, doing what he could. He could treat the physical injuries, but there were some that he could not heal, not with medicine. He turned away and spoke to the person that had been standing calmly to one side.

“I have done what I can, now do your work, mage.”


	12. Chapter 12

The mage had walked through many minds, from high born downwards, but he had never walked through the mind of a Sevlem. He wasn’t even supposed to be in this part of the Kingdom's, but something had compelled him to travel.

He had been making a living entertaining the crowds with his mind walking, but tricks for the masses were not his true calling; but he had to eat. He had been sitting in the courtyard of the small shrine to Matea, the Goddess of Mind-walkers, when the call had gone out for one...how fortunate that he was the only one in the city.

However, he did not think himself so fortunate when he found out why.

Now he was about to delve into the mind of a Sevlem; which was frightening in itself, since Sevlem’s were possessed of their own magic, much more powerful than his. It was also that it was the first Sevlem to be born in five generations, one who should have been wedded to the royal household. A Sevlem that had been the cause of an uproar through the Kingdom’s when the Priesthood had chosen to wed him to a son of a Duke instead.

At first the Sevlem’s mind was chaotic, a jumble of emotions, as was to be expected. He pushed past those and went deeper and now he was seeing what the Sevlem had seen. It was shocking and vivid, and the identity of the attacker could spark a war.

He was withdrawing when he saw it, it shone with magical power, in a corner of the Sevlem’s mind. He could not resist and was drawn towards its...gods...such power. Only one such individual could hold such power, and he could not believe it. His grandfather had spoken of it, but he was always told by others that they were just tales of ancient days.

But this tale was alive and he was in his mind, and what his grandfather had told him since he as old enough to understand was coming true.....that he would serve the Se’hai.

***************************

Dominic felt like he was in the middle of a nightmare. This was not happening, that bloodied and fragile figure being carried towards Morgan’s treatment rooms was not his Matthew; was not the man carrying his child. At first he had been in shock, but now he was angry and was hammering on the door to be let in.

He was pulled away by two sets of hands, and he rounded on them.

“Do not touch me,” he snarled and returned to hammering on the door.

He was pulled away again, this time by very strong hands.

“Lord Howard.”

He whirled round and his anger became red hot.

“You, you were meant to keep him safe!”

He took a swing at the person, but missed.

“Forgive me, my Lord.”

_“Matthew, are you hiding and involving the whole stronghold?”_

_He moved further into their private garden, a smile on his face._

_“Are we not too old to be playing a children’s game or is this some new religious festival that I know not about?”_

_He brushed aside the branches of a weeping tree and stopped, the smile frozen on his face. There was blood everywhere; it was dripping from the leaves of another weeping tree, like tears, and it was smeared on the wood of the small open summer house._

_“Matthew?”_

_With his heart racing and his stomach turning over, he approached the entrance. He would have gone to the floor if he had not held onto the side._

_Matthew was propped up against the seat, covered in what could only be his own blood. His eyes were closed and he was clutching a bloody blanket. Somehow he moved and fell to his knees next to his husband._

_“Matthew?”_

_What should have been sapphire eyes sparkling with life opened, and eyes that were dulled with pain focused on him...no._

_“I held on...for you....my husband...we held on,” Matthew said, but his speech was fragmented and his breath was ragged._

_He frowned when Matthew held out the blanket and he saw a gaping hole in his chest....then he heard it, a baby’s cry._

_Matthew let out a groan and held the blanket out further._

_“Please....our son....take him....I have not....the strength.”_

_Dominic took the bundle, it wasn’t just a bloody blanket, he found himself staring into eyes as blues as Matthew’s._

_“He’s beautiful,” he whispered._

_“They took my heart.....but not....my soul.....tell him....about me.”_

_“No!” Dominic choked out when Matthew let out a long sigh and the life left him. “No, no, Matthew!”_

 

He shot up, Matthew’s name dying on his lips. Another pair of hands were placed on his shoulders.

“Lay back, my Lord,” Lord Kirk’s voice said.

But he did not, “Matthew, is he?”

“He is alive, my Lord . Please, stay in bed.”

“No, I want to see him.”

“Not now, my Lord. The physician says you must not. Christopher had to hit you very hard.”

He frowned, then scowled, “ I want him banished.”

“My Lord, Christopher did not get a chance to protect the Sevlem. He was overpowered, beaten and chained like a dog. You will have to apologise to him for what you said.”

Dominic got out of bed, “I want to see my husband. Do not stop me, Thomas.”

Lord Kirk stepped back, “He is still within the physician’s rooms.”

This time he did not hammer on the door and he was let in. A few minutes later Morgan appeared, along with someone dressed in the garb of a Mage.

“My Lord, we should speak before you see the Sevlem. Would you excuse us, Lord Kirk.”

Lord Kirk bowed and left.

“This is Nathanial, he is a mind walker.”

Dominic frowned, “Why do you need a mind walker?”

“My Lord,” Nathanial said. “The Sevlem did not recall the attack when quizzed. Your good physician felt it was necessary that he should at least recall a part of it, so that we may identify his attacker.”

“And did you find out?”

Nathanial nodded, “It was High Prince Marcus, my Lord.”

“What?”

“High Prince Marcus.”

Dominic took a deep breath and managed to push down the rage that was boiling over inside.

“May I see my husband now?”

“Of course,” Morgan said.

“My Lord,” Nathanial said. “Be aware that he still does not recall the rape itself, only the assault. I ask that you do not allude to it, as his mind is still in a fragile state. I seek your permission to remain and help the Sevlem when he does....and fear not, the child is unharmed.”

Dominic nodded, to eager to see Matthew to ask how the Mage knew that Matthew was with child. He walked into the small room that was used to treat those that needed longer treatment, and took in a sharp breath when he saw Matthew. He was paler that he normally was, which made the bruises and the cuts even more of a stark contrast.

He forced a smile when Matthew looked in his direction.

“I must look a sight. I knew Marcus was unhappy....oww!”

Dominic had to fight to keep his anger in check and sat on the bed.

“Hush now, or you will undo the good physician’s work.”

“No....I care not that he attacked me, I should have expected it from such a spoilt and entitled man. But he attacked me in the temple of the Earth Mother...inside the altar room of all places.”

Dominic put a finger to Matthew’s lips. “It is not important. What is important is that you are alive and our child is unharmed.”

Matthew took his hand away from his lips and placed it on his stomach.

“Our child is strong, and I am strong. But the Earth Mother has been insulted, she must be appeased...Marcus must answer for his sacrilege.”

“He will, my love, but for now you must rest, physician’s orders.”

He leant forward and kissed him gently, then placed his free hand against a bruised cheek.

Matthew sighed and leant into his touch.

“Yes, I am tired,” he said and lay back against the pillows and promptly fell asleep.

Dominic freed his hands....oh Marcus would answer, he would answer with his life.


	13. Chapter 13

“Lord Howard does not act against Prince Marcus.”

“Nor should he, he has not yet gained the allies that he will need. His concern should be for the Sevlem and the imminent birth of the child.”

“But he is not due till the first month of spring has passed.”

“He will give birth before then…and it is time that the High Lord of the Mountains visited his son and heir. The Dark is moving and so are the Gods.”

*********************

Spring in this part of the Kingdoms were nowhere as cold as those of his mountain home. He’d left them when he was ten, but the snow and the ice and granite were in his blood and his soul. Yet still he shivered as he stood upon one of the ramparts. He knew why he shivered; the child he was carrying took all of his spare energy to grow.

He was only a month away from giving birth, and despite the beating he had taken at the hands of Marcus, the child was healthy, and it seemed it had inherited magic as well.

He smiled and placed a hand on his stomach; the child seemed happy, their connection enhanced by the magic that flowed through them both.

“Soon you will see the world through your own eyes,” he said.

He sensed Dominic’s presence but did not turn. He could still feel Dominic’s anger; it was like waves against the cliff tops. His child felt it too and shifted in his womb. He understood his husband’s anger, Prince Marcus was still unpunished for his assault on him and the sacrilege it caused.

The High King, as expected had refused to hear the charges, and had all but threatened to imprison anyone that Duke Howard sent to ask for justice. Even the Temple shied away, for fear that the increasingly unstable High King would turn on them.

He let out a hiss at the pain of the baby shifting.

Dominic was at his side instantly.

“Are you okay, my love?”

“I am fine, our child is just eager to greet the world. But you, my Lord are not fine. Your anger sits like a trajka waiting to strike.”

He felt Dominic tense, were they going to have the same disagreement?

“It is not right that the High King think he and his son are above the law.”

“Only the laws of man, the God’s laws they are not above. Justice will prevail, if not now, when they face the Gates.”

“Matthew, how can you not want vengeance?”

He could hear the frustration in Dominic’s voice.

“You think I do not. I dream of banishing Marcus to the Darklands, or risking my soul and summoning a creature from the Dark to devour him. But I do not, because I will not taint the soul of our unborn child, will not give an innocent to the Dark. Vengeance tainted with anger leads to mistakes, and the innocent suffer.”

He hissed again when he felt another twinge.

“Enough,” Dominic said, wrapping his arms around him. “I will not go chasing after Marcus. You and our child are more important...you are my life.”

“And you are mine.”

“So, your father will be here in two days?”

Ah, he’s changed the subject, good. Not that it was an easier subject.

“Yes, and by the sounds of it, he is bringing half the stronghold with him.”

“Are you nervous?”

“I have not seen my father since I was fifteen. His message said he had been remiss in his visits and wishes to make amends, and he wishes to stay until his first grandchild is born. My father rarely admits to being wrong, so yes, it makes me nervous.”

Dominic laughed. “Then he is much like his son.”

“I do not,” he retorted.

“I think you should rest,” was Dominic’s reply.

***********************

Dominic smiled, Matthew always manged to dampen the anger that raged when he thought of Marcus. The desire to kill Marcus still burnt hot, but he would not let any of his people be harmed because of it.

Like his father had said…there was a time and a place, and now was not it. Now, his priority was Matthew, who was near to giving birth. Matthew still did not recall the rape, and he was glad that he did not; even if the mind walking mage said it would be better if he did, always stating that the longer he did not, the harsher the consequences would be when he did.

He did not dislike Nathanial, but he always got the feeling that there was something the mage knew and was not sharing it. He could not think on that now, not now Matthew’s father, the High Lord of the Mountains was coming.

He had never met Duke Bellamy, but his father had, and had said that the Duke was a dangerous man to have as an enemy, but a powerful ally. Even the High Kings were wary of displeasing the High Mountain Lord, because it was certain that if he rebelled, the whole of the Northern Kingdom would follow him.

Also it had dawned on him that one day Matthew would be the High Lord. He would also be a Sevlem and a warrior priest, even High Priest. He had to sit down and think on that…. how powerful was the man he loved going to be?

He was distracted by Matthew letting out another hiss, as he had another of what the midwife had called ‘false contractions.’ 

“I think you should rest.”

*********************

The rest of the day was spent speaking with advisors and meeting city council members, so he did not see Matthew until the evening.

They sat in a bath and it was still a strange thing to see his child move inside Matthew’s belly. He had tried to read about Sevlem’s and their ability to have children, but he was not a man of science and it confused him.

“Does that not hurt?” he asked, as he nearly but not quite touched what Matthew called the’ birthing pouch.”

“No, but there will be pain when I give birth, but no more than any mother goes through.”

“You still do not wish Nathanial to tell you if our child is a son or a daughter?”

Matthew shook his head, “Son or daughter, he or she will be loved, that is all that matters.”

They settled in for what Dominic hoped was a restful night, since Matthew had become very restless and seemed to be having vivid dreams. But what they were, not even Nathanial could divine; Matthew’s own magic blocking him.

He was suddenly woken by Matthew crying out.

“No, no…Marcus…please…not that!”

Dominic froze, please…he was not remembering that.

Matthew let out another cry and he sounded terrified. He was about to touch him, when Matthew’s eyes snapped open; there was fear and panic in his eyes.

“Matthew,” he began, but Matthew suddenly shifted and fell out of their bed.

“Matthew!” he cried and scrambled across and out of the bed.

Matthew scrambled away, fear filled eyes staring right at him, but was he seeing him?

“M-marcus…he...he…oh Goddess.”

Matthew let out another cry, but this one sounded like he was in pain, and Dominic saw why; the front of Matthew’s bedclothes were soaked.

He was torn between going to his husband or calling for help. Another cry from Mathew made the decision for him. He ran to the door and yanked it open and yelled.

“Find the midwife and the physician!”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matthew.....Dominic.....baby...basically a chapter full of fluff.

Once again Dominic found himself outside of a room where the man he loved was inside and in distress. This time he’d been ordered out by not one, but two midwives, women that not even the bravest warrior would challenge. Even Christopher was standing slightly shell-shocked after being ejected by a woman half his size.

There were a lot of people outside his and Mathew’s chambers, including Duke Howard and most of the Duke’s Council. They had been outside for several hours, the only disruption being one of the midwives’ servants scurrying out and returning with clean cloths and vials of liquid.

What seemed an eternity later the door opened again and Dominic heard a sound that made his heart leap…the cry of a new-born.

“My Lord,” the younger midwife said and stepped to one side, closing the door after he entered. He walked into the bed-chamber and stopped; he’d never seen anything so beautiful and it took his breath away.

Matthew was propped up against many pillows, and in his arms was a small bundle. He moved forward, his breath almost stolen.

The senior midwife curtsied and said, “Only a few minutes, my Lord. Myself and the physician need to attend to the Sevlem.”

Dominic was left alone then and he sat on the bed, unable to find words.

Matthew smiled and said, “Say hello to your son, My Lord.”

He sounded tired and watched silently as Dominic carefully took their son. Eyes as blue as Matthew’s focused on him.

“He has your eyes.”

“All Northern babies are born with blue eyes. They may change because you are of Southern descent.”

“He is beautiful, as are you, my Sevlem.”

The sound of the midwife clearing her throat broke the moment, and she took the baby from Dominic, which caused Matthew’s expression to change to one of panic.

“We need to attend to you, Sevlem and the physician need to examine your child. He will only be in the next room. If you will excuse us now, my Lord,” she said.

Dominic nodded and put a hand over Matthew’s as he watched anxiously as their son was carried into the next room.

“I will be back soon,” he said, but Matthew held his hand tightly and Dominic raised it and kissed it.

“I love you so much, my Sevlem.”

“And I love you so much, my Lord Howard.”

Dominic left then, letting the midwives and the physician do their work. He walked out of the door and said in a quiet voice to the waiting people.

“We have a son.”

********************************

Matthew woke with a start, unaware that he had fallen into sleep. Panic suddenly overtook him; where was his son?

Then he heard the sound of the midwife talking…his son was safe. He frowned as his mind flashed back to the dream that had started his labour. He didn’t seem able to recall it…perhaps it would make itself clear.

“Matron Hesta,” he called and she appeared, carrying his son.

“Your timing is perfect, Sevlem. Your son is ready for his first feed.”

Matthew held his son close and waited for him to latch onto his breast. He started singing a soft lullaby, but stopped and smiled when he felt the bond between them strengthen and the magic flow from himself to his son and back.

“Make the most of it, little one,” he said, knowing that this would be the only time he would feed from him, as he could already feel the more feminine parts that had developed already starting to fade.

Matron Hesta returned with a bowl of water and cleansing cloths.

“Sevlem, a messenger bird has arrived. Matron Sifa will be arriving with your father. She informs me that she will be staying until the harvest. She also says that you could have waited until she arrived to give birth.”

Matthew nodded, too busy watching his son feed; it felt somewhat sad that this would be the only time that this particular close contact would happen. With Hesta’s help, he bathed and dressed his son. Two servants came in and carried the baby’s cradle into the bed chamber and the baby was placed in it.

“Lord Howard will be returning soon, then I shall take my leave.”

“Thank you, Hesta. I shall be recommending that Matron Sifa advances you the rank of Senior Matron.”

Hesta curtsied, then said, “Thank you, Sevlem. Now, I must attend to you.”

***************************

Dominic took the back slapping with good grace, but all he really wanted was to get back to Matthew and his new born son. He managed to slip away and as he entered the room, the midwife placed a finger against her lips and gestured towards the bedroom. She curtsied and left.

He walked quietly into the bedroom and once again his heart leapt. 

Matthew was sitting on the bed, his back to the entrance, and he was talking to their son.  
“The mountains are still capped with snow, even in the height of summer, and mountain Shega’s climb the steep slopes to lick the salt from them. Even the babies are as sure-footed as their mothers. When you are old enough, I will take you and show you my home.”

He stopped talking, as he must have sensed his presence.

“Will you also take me to see your home?”

“Of course,” Matthew said and stood. “It is time for our son to feed. Do you wish to feed him?”

“I am not sure...”

But Matthew just smiled and placed their son in his arms and walked over to a small cauldron and removed a glass bottle.

“You can do this…if you think I will be the one getting up before the cockerel crows every morning to feed him, think again.”

Dominic smiled, happy that Matthew had not lost his attitude. Then he was gazing in wide-eyed wonder as he watched his son feed. Once their son had had his fill Matthew took over and soon their son was settled in his crib and they settled into bed.

Dominic pulled Matthew in to his arms, even more protective of him now.

“You have given me the most precious gift, my Sevlem.”

“Hmm?” Matthew said, voice already soft with sleep.

“It does not matter, sleep now, my beautiful Mathew.”


	15. Chapter 15

The cloaked figure stood outside the darkened room, hesitating in stepping over the threshold; the knowledge of what this place was finally hitting. But then any fear was driven away by hatred and jealousy and lust.

The figure stepped over the threshold and stopped when a voice said.

“Welcome, son of the High King, the man that defiled the temple of the Earth Goddess to. Why do you seek us out?”

“I seek a favour of your god.”

“You desire that which you have already defiled but cannot have. You wish to possess the mind and body of the Sevlem.”

“He is mine….it is my right.”

“Then it shall be so, but beware High Prince, the price for such a thing will be high. Are you prepared to pay it?”

Marcus smiled an unpleasant smile.

“I want what is mine.”

******************************

“I am going to greet my father on the steps.”

Dominic counted to ten again, then said, “Matthew, you gave birth last night and Morgan and the midwife said it was a difficult birth. They said that you should rest at least until tomorrow.”

“No, farmer’s wives have it far worse and they are out working in the fields the next day. If they can do that, then I can stand on some steps.”

“No…” Dominic started to say, but stopped when he got ‘that look’. He knew he had to be careful; the ice in those eyes could easily turn volcanic.

“I am sure your father would much prefer to see you in private and be introduced to his grandson. Besides, you will be attending the tournament tomorrow and the feast in the evening. The people will want to see that you are well.”

He watched Matthew carefully, waiting to see if those ice-chips were melting; and they were, as Matthew’s eyes softened.

“Then I shall rest and receive my father here. One thing before you meet my father, do not let him intimidate you. He will judge you by how you react.”

Dominic nodded and then kissed him. He left their rooms and said to Christopher, who was standing guard outside.

“If he puts one foot outside that door, you have my blessing to pick him up and carry him back to the bed.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Christopher said, a small smile gracing his normally serious face.

Dominic turned away and began to prepare himself for meeting the High Lord of the Mountains and his father-in-law.

*********************

“They say he single-handedly killed the Caradoc of Isieltier…ran straight at it and drove his sword into its heart,” Lord Kirk said.

“I heard that he hung it’s hide on the walls of the meeting chamber, to remind visiting Lords of his power. The Caradoc was said to be a creation of The Dark itself,” Lord Rowe said.

“He’s just a man,” Dominic said, although he too had heard the tales of what the High Lord of the Mountains had done in battle.

“I know, but still, and you are wed to his only child. I am not envious over the interrogation you will receive,” Lord Kirk said.

“Enough now,” Duke Howard said as the gates to the stronghold opened.

Dominic’s eyes were focused on the person that was at the head of the large group of mounted men. He had no idea what the High Lord looked like, but the way the person in front carried himself, told him that this could only be him. The men dismounted and the man plus a couple of the soldiers approached.

Dominic could see why people were intimidated by the High Lord of the Mountains. He was tall and broad-shouldered, rivalling Christopher for size. The high Lord stopped at the bottom of the steps and eyes that were almost the colour of Mathew’s looked directly at him for a few seconds, before flicking over to his father.

“High Lord, welcome to my stronghold,” his father said.

“Please, call me Johan.”

“Then call me Caleb.”

The High Lord inclined his head downwards, then turned his attention back to Dominic.

“And you must be the young lord that has claimed my son’s heart.”

Dominic bowed, “My Lord.”

“Enough of the formalities. You are family and do not need to bow to me. Come, walk with me before I visit my son and my grandson.”

Dominic found it hard not to bow again, but managed it and he fell in beside the High Lord as they walked towards his and Matthew’s chambers.

“I dare say that you and my son were not meant to be a union of love. I am pretty certain that was something the priest did not expect.”

The High Lord stopped and Dominic felt a sudden change in the atmosphere. He looked straight into Dominic’s eyes and said.

“My spies in the High King’s court have told me about rumours of something that occurred in the temple of the Earth Goddess. I wish to know if there is truth in this, and be honest with me, boy.”

Dominic found he couldn’t speak.

“Well, Lord Howard, is it true that High Prince Marcus assaulted then raped my son, who was with child in the altar room of the Earth Goddess?”

Dominic nodded.

“And is it true that the High King denies that such a crime took place and defends the worthless piece of skin that calls itself a High Prince?”

Dominic nodded again. He could see the anger rising in the High Lord’s features.

“And my son does nothing in return.”

Dominic finally managed to speak, “My Lord, Matthew only recalls the assault, he does not recall the rape, and my advisors deem it better that he is not forced to recall it. Please, my Lord, I beg of you not to say anything when you see him.”

The High Lord’s features suddenly softened and a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“I would not do such a thing. I will hold my tongue, but this cannot go unpunished. Now, I shall see my son.”

Dominic dismissed Christopher, who was virtually glowing from the praise that the High Lord had bestowed upon him and the kind words that what had happened to his son was not a reflection on him; no one man could have fought that many men.

He stayed for a while, but eventually made his excuses, allowing father and son some private time.

*****************

“You have grown into a fine young man,” Johan said.

Matthew shifted uncomfortably in his bed; it had been ten years since he had seen his father.

“The temple tutors are good teachers, father.”

“No, Matthew, they cannot teach what you have become. I may have been remiss in visiting you, but I have always made sure that I had news of you. You cannot earn the respect and love of a people from the teachings of a load of priests.”

Matthew still felt uncomfortable at any praise given to him, so he changed the subject.

“Do you want to meet your grandson?”

“Of course, do you think I would ride for a month, just to look at the view,” Johan said.

Matthew smiled then, glad that his father had not lost his sense of wit. He got out of bed and went into the small nursery and picked up his son, who let out a gurgle of happiness at his touch. He re-entered the room and held out his son to his father.

“Father, meet your grandson. My son, meet your grand-father, the High Lord of the Mountains.”

Johan took the small baby and his featured softened again.

“He has the look of you when you were a babe…apart from the fair hair. He will be a handsome young lord. I just wish your mother could have been here to see him and the fine man you have grown into.”

Matthew took in a breath; it was the first time his father had mentioned his mother without being asked.

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes, but we have decided not to announce it until the feast after the tournament.”

Johan nodded, “Matron Sifa is busting her skirts to see you. That woman has the tongue of a Shrika Bird when something has riled her. I fear I may be apologising for not seeing you more for the rest of my life.”

Matthew actually laughed, then took his son back.

“It is good to see you father.”

“And it is good to see you. I am told that Christopher is taking part in the tournament as your champion. Do you dare a wager as to whether he will beat mine?”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tournament.....a tumble in the straw....a feast.....then it begins.

Matthew looked out of the window and studied the array of tents. The tournament was held every year to celebrate the coming of spring, but it was made more important this year because it would be celebrating the birth of his and Dominic’s son. Plus, the presence of his father, the High Lord of the Mountains added another layer of importance; he could feel the buzz of excitement in the air.

He shivered, as he felt the mix of emotions from the city below. He frowned, his magic had been acting oddly since he’d become pregnant, even more so after Marcus had attacked him. He thought it was due to conflict between the male and female self, it was disconcerting; he thought it would settle after giving birth.

But it had not eased, only grown. Sometimes he could feel the fear of the smallest mouse as it cowered from the cat in the grain stores, and it would overwhelm him; and sometimes the tumult of emotions from the council as they bickered, left him wanting to scream for silence.

He moved away from the window and it was replaced by the innocent joy that was radiating from his son. Tonight at the feast, they would present their son to the assembled lords and courtiers, and name him. As the one that had given birth to him, it was his right to name him, much to Dominic’s chagrin.

“But you get to teach him how to be noble warrior,” he replied when his husband had complained. “Besides, you might name him after your great-great uncle…and there are no Egbert’s in my family and there never will be…the gods forbid.”

A knock at the door broke into his reverie.

“Come,” he said, turning towards the door.

“Sefa!” he cried, and in a very un-Sevlem like manner ran over and hugged her.

“My little Sevlem,” she said, then held him at arm’s length. “I cannot believe it has been a year since I have seen you. Where is the little one?”

Matthew led her to the small nursery and felt a swell of pride when she said.

“He has your eyes. I think they will not change.”

She jumped when the set of carved animals that swung over the crib suddenly moved, without the aid of hand nor breeze.

“He has magic.”

Matthew nodded, “I know not what his gift will be. I wish we could talk more, but I have to ready myself for the tournament.”

“I shall watch him myself,” Sefa said.

********************

A roar went up from the crowd as the horses thundered across the arena, and a collective gasp rang out when one of the riders was un-horsed. The melee was exciting to watch, but was also dangerous, deadly even. Although no weapons were used, bones could be broken and death was not ruled out. It was a test of horsemanship and balance.

Dominic was on his feet and watched at the horse careered around the arena, bucking wildly, as it tried to remove the saddle that slipped and was hanging from its belly. He could see that Matthew was on his feet as well, he was no doubt feeling the rush of excitement like himself.

Soon it was down to the last two riders, and it became a game of wits and craft. In the end a rider from the house of an Eastern Lord won and received his prize from Matthew, who was suitably embarrassed when the victor fell to his knees, saying something about ‘blessed of the gods’ and seemed to just about restrain himself from kissing his feet.

Dominic found it highly amusing that after each victor had claimed their prize, Matthew muttered under his breath, “I really wish they wouldn’t do that’ and ‘There will be a hole in the wood soon.’

The tournament progressed and it eventually came to the single combat, in which Christopher would be taking part in. Two draws had been made in the morning, and the winner of each fight would fight another within that draw and so on, until there were only two, one from each draw, with the final fight being on the second day of the tournament. They would fight until one of them asked for quarter, and once given, the fight was over and a victor would be declared.

It turned out that Christopher and the High Lord of the Mountains champion became the two finalists, and Dominic and his father joined in the wager between Matthew and his father as to who would win.

After acknowledging Christopher and the Mountain Lord’s champion, the two senior Lords excused themselves, no doubt to talk of matters of the royal court. Dominic began steering Matthew towards the stronghold…well, he tried, but Matthew began dragging him towards the stables.

“Matthew, what are you doing?”

Matthew said nothing, he just pulled him into an empty set of stalls, slammed the door shut and no doubt using some kind of magic, Dominic heard the bar sliding across.

He was pushed against one of the stalls…only then did Matthew speak.

“Want you…need you, right now.”

Dominic looked into Matthew’s eyes and his pupils were darkened and dilated with pure want. Matthew moved closer and that heady scent that was all Matthew filled his nostrils. With a growl he reversed their positions and pushed Matthew to the hay strewn floor.

“You want me.”

“Yes,” Matthew said breathily, then let out a needy sounding whine when Dominic grabbed a handful of his hair…and Dominic was gone, lost in the feeling of his husband and the sounds he made, and the sharp sweet pain as nails were dug into the skin on his back when Matthew came.

He let out his own groan as he emptied inside his husband and felt the shiver that ran through Matthew as he did so.

“Well, that was…unexpected,” he said as he ran a hand over Matthew’s spine as they lay in the now scattered hay.

Matthew propped himself up on one elbow and said.

“I have to keep you on your toes.”

Dominic looked at him, and he marvelled at how beautiful Matthew looked, skin flushed from their love making, and an amused glint in his eyes.

“And what do I owe for this surprise?”

“Oh, I don’t know…maybe it was all those muscular and sweaty men.”

Dominic quirked an eyebrow, “So, I am not muscular and sweaty?”

“Did I say that?” Matthew replied softly.

Dominic shivered when a finger was trailed over his chest and his stomach.

“I find a man that has a mind and a heart to match their strength far more appealing.”

“Is that so?”

“Although, I’m not really sure if there is one around here….”

Matthew’s words were cut off as Dominic silenced him with a kiss and the hay once again was strewn across the floor.

**********************

The great hall was full of lords and their ladies and various courtiers and lower ranking nobles.

“We are seriously late,” Matthew said as he peered through a gap in the door.

“And whose fault is that?” Dominic said.

Matthew let out a huff of air, “I didn’t ask for a second round.”

“Sevlem,” Sefa’s voice said from behind them. “I am sure your son does not need to know what you do in some stable.”

Matthew turned to face the matron.

“Sorry.”

She stared at him, then at Dominic, who shifted under her gaze.

“Indeed, now, take your son and introduce him to the court.”

Matthew took his son, who was now dressed in the colours of the Howard family, but was wrapped in a blanket that contained his own family colours, and a crest that was a combination of two family crests.

Matthew winced slightly as a fanfare broke out as the doors were opened, and the guests rose as one. He had felt nervous, but as he walked towards the table at the top of the hall, his nerves dissipated and were replaced by pride, and he straightened his shoulders and took on the bearing of what he was…the Sevlem.

He made himself comfortable on his seat and waited until all of the guests were focused on himself and his family. He then stood as Duke Howard said.

“My Lords, Ladies, nobles and courtiers. I present to you Lord Malachi, son of Lord Dominic Howard and Lord Matthew Howard…grandson of the High Lord of the Mountains and myself High Lord of the Southern Plains…to Malachi!”

“To Lord Malachi!” rang out across the hall and cups were raised.

Matthew took all the compliments about how charming and sweet Malachi was, and the gifts with good grace, but like all babies, he soon began to grizzle and Sefa took him and left to return to the nursery. Then the banquet began in earnest and the wine and food flowed.

He was highly amused by the fool and amazed by the acrobats and jugglers…well he was until the sudden sound of the warning bell being rung and one of the Duke’s men virtually fell through the door, blood running down his face.

“My Lords…. the city, it is under attack!”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will never be the same....

Dominic twitched with a mixture of nerves and fear, as his squire tightened the girth on his war horse’s saddle. It had not even been half a turn of a sand timer and he was preparing to ride out with his father and his father-in-law’s men, to face their attackers.

The lower part of the city outside the stronghold walls was ablaze, and there were sounds coming from it that did not come from human throats. He was about to mount his horse, when he saw another of his war horse’s being lead towards them. Then he heard raised voices…oh no.

He looked up at the steps and Matthew was descending, wearing chainmail and buckling a sword, and Christopher was just behind him

“I am going, like it or not.”

“I do not think so,” Dominic said as he met Matthew on the steps. “You will stay in the stronghold with our son, where you will be safe.”

“When the Dark sees the Light,” Matthew said.

“No,” Dominic said.

“There is dark magic being used, I can feel it. You need a mage out there.”

“The court mage will be with us.”

“No, he will not be powerful enough alone.”

“Matthew, you are not going into battle.”

Matthew’s eyes narrowed then he said.

“You think I am weak.”

“No, I just want you safe.”

“Just because I carried and gave birth to our son, does not make me less of a man.”

Dominic was starting to lose his temper.

“By the gods, you will do as I say!” he roared.

Matthew actually flinched, but Dominic didn’t stop.

“Christopher, you will escort the Sevlem to the safety of our chambers.”

Matthew’s eyes widened when he saw Christopher nod.

Matthew hissed something in that same odd language, and Dominic was certain it was an insult.

“You are staying here,” he said and with that mounted his horse. He didn’t look back, for fear that he would see the hurt on Matthew’s face. He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and rode out of the courtyard, to face who knows what.

***********************

Matthew was seething…. how dare he. He was perfectly capable of defending himself, and it was better if he got to and destroyed the mage who was using dark magic before they could get to the ones he loved. He was not going to be told what to do.

But Christopher had other ideas, why of all times, did he choose now to listen to Dominic.

“I am going,” he said and started down the steps again.

Christopher rapidly moved in front of him.

“Sevlem, I cannot protect you and your son if you are separated.”

“You are a temple guard and my bodyguard. You answer to me before anyone.”

“Yes, Sevlem, but not in this matter. Sevlem, please do not make me force you.”

“Christopher.”

“No, I will carry you if I have to.”

Matthew sighed, he was defeated…for now. He was worried…no frightened. His magic had been going insane in response to the dark magic. It had made his insides squirm; somewhere out there, there was a powerful mage, and he was stuck here.

As they approached their chambers he felt Malachi’s distress…of course, he would feel the dark magic too. He hurried inside and Malachi was wailing, until he picked him up and soothed him with his own magic.

“Ssh, I know, you feel it too. Have no fear, little one, it will not harm you. I will not allow it.”

He looked towards the window when a screech was carried on the breeze…goddess, what was his love having to face. He placed Malachi back into his cradle and moved towards the window.

“No, Sevlem, come away from the window,” Sefa said.

He ignored her and stood at the window and using his magic, summond a hawk and bid it to fly towards the glow that was the burning lower city, using its eyes to see….and he gasped when he saw the carnage. He bid the hawk to go further, over the burning buildings, trying not to see the dead and the dying, towards the enemy.

He bid the hawk go further, wanting to see where the dark mage was located, not that he could do anything from within the stronghold. He jerked suddenly when an arrow struck the hawk and it fell from the sky; he was again blind as to what was going on outside.

“Matthew, come away,” Sefa said. “We must prepare, in case they cannot hold the city.”

“They will hold,” he said. They must hold, he thought.

********************

Dominic wheeled his horse at the screech. He drew his sword and looked up and waited for the nightmare behind the screech to appear. He could hear his father yelling for everybody to fall back; they were losing the upper part of the city.

He put his father’s voice out of his head and concentrated on listening for the wingbeats that would herald its arrival. It was a nightmare that had killed so many, killed the court mage, would have killed Matthew if he had faced it; was probably going to kill him. But by the gods, he would make sure it remembered him.

He tensed as he heard it, tightening his grip on his sword and the reins. He raised his sword, but the nightmare flew straight over. He turned his horse…no, it was heading for the stronghold.

*******************

Johan pulled his sword from the man he had just killed. It had been many years since he had raised his sword in battle, and his warrior blood was singing; he was at the heart of it a warrior, not a statesman or a diplomat.

He had fought and won many battles, but this one was not being won. They were outnumbered, and there were creatures of dark magic. He was not afraid of them, he had fought such twisted creations before, but he was frightened for his son and his grandchild.

He was afraid that his son would be slaughtered and his grandson stolen and used for some gods forsaken purpose. He heard the screech of one of the creatures, and he instinctively ducked as it sailed overhead. He followed its flight…no, it was heading for the stronghold. He heard the call for a retreat, but he was running, not to retreat, but to get to the stronghold before the creature could attack it, attack his son.

***************

Matthew helped Sefa pack what would be needed for Malachi. The sounds of battle were growing closer, and Christopher and Lord Kirk, who had remained to help protect the stronghold, had made the decision that it was time to move down to the cellars, and then go through the escape passage.

He looked over at the open window when another screech actually rattled the glass.

“We go now,” Christopher said.

Matthew picked up Malachi and they left the chambers, and joined the steady stream of servants and families of the lords that were fighting. Another screech echoed down the corridor, and the children began to whimper or cry. He felt Malachi’s magic flinch at the sound, and his fragile hold on his anger began to fray; his son of two days was terrified.

The cellars were not spacious, so the warriors that were escorting the servants and the families began filtering the most vulnerable into and along the escape passage.

He could see that Christopher was distracted, so he said.

“Sefa, can you hold Malachi for a moment. I need to get another blanket, he feels cold.”

He turned away and crouched down, in the pretence of retrieving a blanket. He muttered the words of the obedience incantation. He turned back and said.

“Take care of Malachi, Sefa. Now take to the escape passage.”

“Yes, Sevlem,” Sefa said.

As she turned away he invoked a glamour, so it would appear that he was still here. He added a distraction incantation, so that no-one would see him leave. He saw Christopher emerge from the passageway, and look straight at the glamour of himself.

He turned away, guilt laced with sadness at having to leave his son, but it had to be done; those creatures could not be killed by swords or spears. He found his way back up to the stronghold, but stopped when a wave of emotions washed over him…fear, determination…the despair of the dying.

 

He had to stop this….and stop it now.

He walked out of the large doors that were the main entrance to the living quarters and strode out into the courtyard. He flinched as did his magic when another screech filled the air. It made his whole body vibrate and he looked up when he heard the beat of wings.

Steadying himself and his magic, he began to recite a repelling incantation. But he was a little too late and a searing pain went through his body as he was taken off his feet by a huge talon. 

He landed on the steps, dazed by the blow and slowly rolled onto his side…only to see what had hit him land on a few feet away from him.

It was a twisted mixture of an eagle and a serpent; it’s fangs were dripping venom. It advanced, hissing malevolently, its intention clear. He tried to recite the incantation again, but his dazed state made it hard for him to form the words.

The creature raised it claw…. suddenly it let out a screech and whirled round. Matthew could see a lone warrior, his sword protruding from the creature’s side. It let out a hiss, it’s focus now on the figure.

It was only then that he saw who the lone warrior was.

“Father…no!!” he yelled, but his voice sounded distant in his ears

Time seemed to slow as the creature lashed out with it serpent’s tail and sent his father flying. It moved, faster than a thing that size should be able to and caught his father in it’s claw before he could hit the ground.

He heard his father scream as talons drove through his body. He couldn’t move, fear and injury paralysing him, and he could only watch as it brought the same claw down and crushed his father like he was a mere insect.

Only then did he find he could move, as white hot anger…no fury blazed through his veins. He managed to stand and he felt his magic begin to rise...but something felt different; his magic seemed much more powerful...but he didn’t care.

With a feral cry he unleashed his magic, with no incantation to temper it, and it hit the creature in the form of sizzling lightning.

The creature screeched and reeled away, it’s talons tearing away from his father’s body. He lashed out again and another bolt hit it and it was turned to ash. The lightning bolt continued skywards, but Matthew didn’t hear the screeching and screams of creatures and men dying.

He staggered down the steps, falling to his knees and then crawling over to the still form of his father. 

“Father?” he said, reaching out touching his father’s face, but there was no response.

“Father?” he said again and managed to turn him, and he was greeted with sightless, lifeless eyes and his father’s eviscerated stomach.

“Father,” he sobbed…then screams it.

“Father!”


	18. Chapter 18

Dominic yanked hard on the reins as his horse tried to turn and run, as another flash of unnatural lightning lit up the dark. It spread across the inky sky like a malevolent hand. The screams of men dying as they were struck carried on the wind caused by the fires. They were mingled with the screeches of the creatures as they fell from the sky.

But one of them had already flown towards the stronghold…Matthew and his son were in danger. He had no time for the animal to disobey, so he had to be brutal and dug his spurs in with a savage kick, and it shot forward. His heart tried to escape his chest when he saw the shattered gates of the stronghold. He didn’t know if it had been shattered by the creature or the strange lightning; nor did he care, as he galloped into the courtyard.

All he saw was Matthew, on his knees, holding someone. He could not see who, as Mathew had his back to him and was shielding the figure.

He jumped off the horse and then froze when Matthew let out a heart-wrenching wail and shifted slightly…no, he was holding his father, the now visible pool of blood glistening in the light from the fires.

Matthew made another sound, a low keening noise that went straight to Dominic’s soul. The sound finally broke whatever spell that had frozen him and he moved and fell to his knees next to his husband.

“Matthew,” he said quietly, trying to ignore the ruined body of Johan. He became aware of movement behind him, his father and the combined warriors were returning.

Another figure was suddenly in his vision and on his knees, Christopher. He glanced at him and could see how distraught he was. He could also hear sharp intakes of breath and breathy ‘no’s’, Johan’s men. Time seemed to be stretching, but he found he couldn’t reach out and comfort Matthew; it felt like there was an invisible line that he shouldn’t cross.

The silence was broken by a soft voice.

“My Lord Matthew, we should move your father.”

Then it became a heart destroying scene as Matthew shook his head, his hold on his father’s body becoming tighter.

“My Lord Howard,” a voice said. “We must move his body. This is not for all to see.”

Dominic shook himself out of his stupor and finally touched Matthew.

“Matthew, let them take him.”  
Another shake of the head.

“Matthew…please.”

Again the refusal.

“Then I am sorry, my love,” he said and began pulling him away.

But Matthew’s grip on his father’s body was like iron, and several pairs of hands had to prise him away, and the screams of ‘no, no’ would stay with him forever, as would the heart-wrenching sobs as Matthew struggled to break free from his grip.

“I am sorry,” he whispered into his hair. “Come away.”

He breathed a sigh of relief when Matthew went limp in his arms and he was able to carry him to their chambers.

“Has someone called for the physician!” he heard his father bellow.

“He is coming, my lord.”

“And send for Nathanial!” Dominic called, knowing he would be needed.

He tried not to recoil at the smell of blood as he removed Matthew’s clothes. He was relieved that he couldn’t see any creature inflicted wound. There was a small commotion as Morgan and Nathanial pushed their way through the small crowd of warriors that were in the room and at the door.

Morgan whirled around and roared, “Everybody that is not family out…. now!”

The room cleared quickly and the door was firmly shut. Dominic was moved firmly out of the way and could only watch as Morgan examined Matthew, then let Nathanial attend to him. He moved back and stood next to Dominic.

“I am sorry for your loss. My skills are not what is needed, but Nathanial’s are. I will send one of my assistants with a sleeping draught for the Sevlem, but I must attend to the injured….and Lord Bellamy’s body.”

He bowed to Dominic and Duke Howard, and Dominic could hear the questions being asked by those outside before the door was once again shut. His attention was drawn back to the bed when Matthew let out a low guttural sound. Nathanial had his hands firmly pressed to Matthew’s temples, his eyes closed in deep concentration.

After what seemed an eternity he opened them and took his hands away. His eyes seemed to reflect the deep grief that permeated the room. He rubbed them, then blinked.

“I have done what I can, but his mind is closed off to me. I must join the physician, there are those that may need a peaceful transition to the gods. He will not wake for a while, and it is perhaps for the best.”

Nathanial took his leave and Dominic and his father were left alone with the sleeping Matthew.

Duke Howard placed a hand on Dominic’s shoulder.

“This has been a cursed night. Too many deaths at the hands of dark magic and evil men.”  
Dominic brushed a hand through Matthews hair, but there was no response.

“Do we know who the attackers were?”

“They did not carry any colours or coat of arms and whoever commanded them did not have the courage to enter the battle themselves. We took prisoners and they will be questioned, but there are more urgent matters to attend to. The High Lord of the Mountains is dead…which means…”

Dominic sighed, “I know, Matthew is now the High Lord. But at this moment, I do not think he will care.”

“No doubt, I will have to send word to their council and I have to send word to the High King. This will cause much turmoil. I fear the High King will see it as an opportunity to take the High Mountains as his own.”

Dominic looked at his father, “He would not dare, not with a rightful heir to take his place.”

“Son, the High King is mad and thirsty for more power. He would plunge the Kingdoms into war, if it meant he would gain more land and power, and he would place Marcus as the High Mountain Lord. But do not let this concern you, we must concern yourself with Matthew. It is unfortunate that he will not have time to grieve, but he will have to take his father’s place before the High King can steal it.”

“The Dark take the High King and his bastard son.”

“Enough now, you must be here for your husband, nothing else is of importance.”

********************

Two days later and Matthew had still not awoken, but as he slept much had occurred. The High Mountain Council were of course shocked and bereft that their Lord had died, and they were angered that he had been killed by a creation of dark magic. But what worried and concerned Dominic, was the request that Matthew should return to the High Mountains, so that he and his people could set the pyre for their deceased Lord.

On the morning of the third day, Matthew awoke and Dominic should have been happy that he had…but he was not.

“I am returning to the High Mountains with my father’s body.”

“Of course, I will accompany you.”

“No, only Malachi and Christopher will be going.”

Dominic’s heart lurched, Matthew’s voice had held no emotion…this was not his Matthew, his Sevlem.

“Matthew, you cannot…”

Matthew looked, no glared at him, then snarled…actually snarled.

“I am the High Lord of the Mountains, you cannot order me to do anything.”

“Matthew…please,” he said and grabbed hold of his arm.

Matthew looked at his hand, then at him.

“Let go of me,” he hissed.

Dominic did so, and he let his arm drop to his side.

“Matthew.”

He looked into Matthew’s eyes, they were hard and icy…but was there a trace of something else in those glacial jewels?

Matthew turned and walked away. He went to go after him, but he felt a hand on his shoulder, it was Nathanial.

“No, my Lord, let him go. This is how it has to be. But do not fear, you are two halves of one soul, and one soul cannot be halved forever.”

Dominic watched as Matthew disappeared from view; he hoped that Nathanial was right, he could not lose the man he loved or his son.


	19. Chapter 19

“The High Lord of the Mountains is dead! Long live the High Lord of the Mountains!”

Matthew looked down at the crowd as they roared the chant. It had been a month since he had brought his father’s body home, and the stronghold had been wreathed in mourning, all colourful drapery replaced by black. He would be glad when colour could return to his home, but for now the people mourned along with him.

He had tried to hold back the tears as they had lit the funeral pyre, but his people’s tears did not permit it. He wished he hadn’t told Dominic to stay away; he needed his strength; but his anger had blinded him.

Now he was only three days from ascending his father’s seat, and his anger had faded, leaving grief in its place. He had sent a messenger bird, pleading for Dominic’s forgiveness and asking him to be present at his ascension. His heart had lifted somewhat when the reply came and had said “even the Hounds of Drakaar would not stop him.”

Two days later he was standing on the ramparts, looking out for Dominic and his party. He had used his magic to enhance his sight; Dominic was some hours away.

“My Lord?”

The voice made him pull his magic back and turn and face the speaker; it was Christopher.

“You should put on more appropriate clothing. I am sure the stronghold and all those Lords and Dukes do not need to see you in your night attire. Although it might set a few of the Ladies and young Lords hearts a flutter.”

He quirked a small smile, “Still trying to protect my virtue.”

Christopher returned the smile, “I think that particular bird has flown the nest.”

An hour later he was standing on the steps, dressed in the colours of the High Lord. He had already welcomed several Dukes, including Duke Anderson, who was representing the High King. He was pleased to see the powerful noble, who had more than once verbalised his regret and apologies at Prince Marcus’ violent and sacrilegious act.

The clatter of hooves announced the arrival of another parry and he mentally braced himself to receive the greetings and commiserations of another Duke or lesser noble. However, when he saw who the lead rider was he forgot all decorum and ran down the steps and nearly bowled the person over. Strong arms were wrapped around him and he breathed in, allowing the person’s scent and presence to fill his senses.

“I have missed you too,” Dominic said.

“I am sorry,” he said into Dominic’s chest.

He was pushed back slightly and a hand tilted his chin upwards, till he was looking into his husband’s eyes.

“There is no need, your grief and anger needed a target.”

“Still, I should not have….”

A finger on his lips silenced him.

“It does not matter.”

*********************

Dominic had never been this far into the Northern lands. His only foray had been at fifteen, serving as a squire to his father’s first general. It was his first time seeing a warrior of the North, and he had been struck by their grace and savagery in battle. But nothing had prepared him for the striking appearance of the people that lived in the stronghold of the High Mountain Lord. He had thought them truly beautiful…until he had seen the ethereal radiance that was Matthew.

He wasn’t really looking at the scenery, his attention was on being reunited with his husband and son. He had thought that the death of the High Lord had marked then end of their marriage; Matthew had seemed so cold and distant.

Now they were entering the rocky gorge that led to the stronghold of the High Lord. He reined in his horse and could only stare. The High Lord’s stronghold was perched on the side of the mountain, that was so high, it disappeared into the clouds.

“By the gods, I would not like to try and besiege that,” Lord Kirk said.

 

“Is it actually built into the side of the mountain?” Lord Rowe said.

“That it is,” the guide that had met them at the border said. “The stronghold has stood for a thousand years and not once have her walls been breached.”

The whole party became twitchy as large iron gates swung open and they entered a tunnel that could not have been carved by human hands. Dominic could feel eyes on him; no doubt arches or crossbow men. But he forgot about them as he rode into the light and saw Matthew on the steps.

He pulled up and had barely dismounted when he was nearly floored by his husband…gods, it felt good to feel him in his arms again, and how could not accept that muffled apology. He did not stop the tears when in the privacy of Matthew’s chamber, he was handed his son, nor when he held Matthew after their love making.

“So, tomorrow at sunset you become the High Lord of the Mountains.”

Matthew let out a sigh. “Yes.”

“Why at sunset?”

“It has always been so. There are two stones within the wall of the great hall. The sun strikes both stones at sunset. I must stand between them and receive the blessings of the spirits of the mountains. Without it my rule will be short and unhappy.”

He tightened his hold on him, “That would never happen.”

Matthew shifted in his arms and said, “The spirits care not what men think you are, you are either blessed or not. You cannot fool them or avoid them, it is the spirits that that allow the High Lord to rule, not men.”

Matthew let out a sigh and ran a finger along one of his arms.

“I do not wish to talk about thing that I cannot control. Tonight I want to be in control.”

******************

Matthew woke before Dominic did…today would be a day that would change his life. By the end of the day it would be his soul that would decide the fate of the Northern lands and its people.

Dominic stirred when he moved and tried to pull him back.

“No, my husband. I wish to spend the next few hours with you and our son. When the priest arrives it will be the last I see of anyone until sunset.”

So he sat with Dominic and Malachi, and they talked about nonsense, then the knock came.

“It is time,” he said and kissed his son and then Dominic. He opened the door and followed the priest to the family temple.

He removed his clothes, baring his body as he would his soul, and washed in the purified water that the priest had blessed. He remained still as the priest painted the ancient runes on his body.

“I will return on the second hour before sunset. May the spirits bless you,” the priest said and left him alone.

He waited until the door was closed before sinking to his knees and placed his hands on the altar and closed his eyes. He let his magic flow as he recited the ancient incantation…he knew know more until the priest touched his shoulder.

“It is time, my Lord.”


	20. Chapter 20

“The Sevlem is ascending to the High Lord of the Mountains. The Dark is gathering its allies and the Sevlem’s trial will begin and the Se’hai will be begin his journey to the light.”

“But to endure such a thing, it may be too much.”

“The Sevlem must prevail, the Light must be uncovered to fight the Dark.”

***********************

Dominic hadn’t seen Matthew since dawn, and his nerves were getting the better of him. This was a huge moment and it would change both of their lives. The High Lord of the Mountain was the most powerful man outside of the High King and the High Priest and Priestess. Without the support of the High Lord, a High King and even the priesthood could fall.

As he waited in the Grand Hall, he wondered how Matthew was going to shoulder such a responsibility. A wave of apprehension whet through him, and he offered a prayer to the gods that Matthew never regained his memories of his rape by the High Prince; not now he was going to hold the loyalty of an army that could devastate the Five Kingdoms.

His thoughts were stopped when the hall was silenced by a heavy staff being brought down on the marble floor, and all bar the single brazier that sat on the dais being doused. The air was filled with soft chanting and a rush of cool air as doors were opened. He wanted to turn and look at his husband, but he knew it was forbidden, and as the small party that accompanied Matthew passed him by, he bowed.

The sound of a wooden cover being moved made him look up, and once again he was taken by the beauty of his husband. He looked ethereal yet vulnerable, as he stood between the two stones. He glanced at the now revealed glassless window and could see the sun begin its descent between the two peaks called the Sisters of the Souls.

He, along with the rest of the crowd held a collective breath as the sun’s rays began to crawl its way forwards. He could feel the tension as it hit the first stone, then illuminated Matthew before hitting the second stone. Then there was a collective release of breath when both stones glowed.

“The spirits have blessed the High Lord. Kneel Matthew, son of Johan,” the priest said.

The priest held a silver circlet over Matthew’s head, “By the blessings of the gods and the spirits of the mountains, I name you Matthew, son of Johan, who was son of Elias, and the rightful heir to all your forbearers High Lord of the Mountain’s and the Northern Lands. I charge you to serve your people as you would have them serve you. Do you swear to uphold this charge?”

“I swear on the name of my father and my forbearers. May the God and Goddess tear my soul asunder if I do not.”

“Then I annoint you High Lord.”

The priest placed the circlet on his head and helped him stand.

“Long live the High Lord!”

The cry echoed around the hall and Dominic’s heart swelled with love and pride, but also fear. As the High Lord, his husband would have to lead on the battlefield if war ever came. He pushed that fear aside as Matthew was now approaching him.

“My husband,” he said and Dominic bowed.

The gentle laugh that he loved rang out. “You do not need to show such deference, you are my husband and my Lord. Come, your place is by my side,” Matthew said and held out his hand.

He took it and let Matthew lead him back towards the dais and the single chair. He stood behind it as Matthew sat, then spoke.

“We have mourned my father and have released his spirit to the winds. The time for mourning has passed, now we must celebrate.”

*************************

The feast was boisterous, but Matthew wasn’t really paying attention. For some reason, he felt unsettled, but he decided to try and engage with the celebration. He was succeeding until he heard someone whisper his name.

“ _Matthew.”_

He jumped slightly and looked round, but those around him were engaged in conversation. He shook his head and once again tried to focus on the people.

“ _Matthew,”_ the voice said again…what, it was inside his head.

“ _Matthew, come,”_ the voice said, and he felt himself stand. His movement caused Dominic to stop his conversation and turn to him.

“Matthew, are you all right?”

He found himself saying, “I am fine, I just need some cooler air.”

“Then I shall accompany you.”

He wanted to say please, but instead he said. “Please stay and continue your conversation with Lord William. I will not be gone long.” Why had he said that? He could feel Dominic’s eyes on him as he walked down the hall and walked out of the open doors.

“ _Matthew, the Northern gate…come.”_

A part of his mind said he should not be listening to a voice in his head, but the voice was compelling.

“ _The North gate…come Matthew.”_

He eventually reached the North gate; it was then that he frowned, as the gate was rarely used and only lead to a treacherous mountain path; hence it was always locked and unguarded. Oddly, he wasn’t surprised or worried when the door opened.

“ _Matthew, come outside.”_

He walked out of the gate, expecting to see someone standing there.

“ _Come further,”_ the voice said.

He suddenly hesitated, that meant leaving the safety of the light from the stronghold.

“ _Matthew_ ,” the voice said.

Panic suddenly surged as he felt he wasn’t moving of his own volition. That turned into full blown panic when something covered his nose and mouth. His eyes widened when he recognised the smell and taste of Hescus vapour.

By the time he felt his magic surge, his vision was already darkening.

A few minutes later a patrol entered the corridor. Their pace quickened when they saw that the gate was open. Their worry turned to consternation when they ventured outside and on the frozen ground was the silver circlet worn by the High Lord.


	21. Chapter 21

The stronghold…no, the whole city was in uproar, and Dominic was at the centre of it. His roared threats to gut and then behead the sons of the Dark that had abducted his husband, echoed through the passageways and out into the city.

His murderous rage infected every warrior and citizen, who were already fired up by the abduction of their Lord. It warmed the blood of the warriors that followed Dominic along the icy path, and it was the heart-rending call of their Lord’s name when the path became impassable, that fuelled the fires of revenge.

“Sorcery must have been used to entice our Lord to the gate. The sorcerer must have somehow evaded the magical guards.”

“I care not if it was sorcery. A sorcerer will die as easy as any other man. Tell me, priest, how could my husband been so easily enticed?”

“It could have only been dark magic, and powerful at that. The Sevlem’s magic is too strong to fall to any normal enchantment.”

“Can the seers not locate him?” Christopher asked.

“The same magic must be stopping the Sevlem from using his magic.”

Christopher let out a growl, “They would not dare to do that.”

Dominic felt cold rush through his veins.  
“What would they dare not do.”

The priest hesitated before speaking, “To prevent someone with magic using their magic, an enchanted collar would have to be used. It is a cruel method.”

Again, Dominic felt the cold in his blood.

“How so?”

 

“Because it will cause the wearer great pain if they try and use their magic.”

*****************************

Matthew woke with a start, and his nose was assaulted with a smell that was definitely not roasted meat. A noise made him start, but the movement was halted by something cold against his throat. He raised his hand to find out what it was, and he saw chains.

A flash of anger went through him, his magic responded…well, it tried. He let out a cry when he felt intense burning around his neck….no, it couldn’t be; he’d been collared. He let out a frustrated growl, then jumped when someone said.

“Apologies for the collar, my pretty. But we cannot have you spelling yourself free, nor let any seer know your location.”

He tried to turn, so he could see the owner of the voice.

“I would try not move too much, those chains are designed to tighten if you move.”

Of course, he didn’t listen and tried to move, only to find pain in his wrists and ankles.

“You’re using sorcery, you used it to capture me.”

“Not myself, but gold can buy someone who can.”

He was left alone then, and an unbidden image of Malachi crying for him and Dominic’s worried features, as he held him. He didn’t stop the tears that fell.

He must have eventually fallen into sleep, because he was yanked from it, the collar pressing painfully into the nape of his neck.

“Up, my pretty.”

He was dragged out of his cell and into a cage on wheels. It was only just big enough for him, and it was covered to prevent curious eyes from looking. Soon they were moving and he knew he was getting further and further away from his home and family.

His heart sank and he could feel his magic hissing and spitting in frustration, trapped behind the barrier of the collar. If the thrice-dammed thing ever came off, then woe betide those that put it there. He could hear multiple voices, but he could single out the voice of the man from the cell.

“Make sure all if it is within the marks, or I will feed you to the dogs.”

His heart started to beat faster when he felt the cage being lifted, and the jar to his spine as it was put down made him wince. The cover was lifted and his captor smiled at him.

“Well, my pretty, we part company. Shame, I would have enjoyed training you for the slaver’s block.”

He was about to reply with a few choices words, when he felt it…magic, powerful magic; then he felt nothing. When he came too again, he was out of his cage, but still collared, but he soon wished he was still unconscious.

His magic, suppressed as it was, let out a howl…this place was steeped in dark magic, and by the gods, there was one all-pervading smell…. blood.

*****************

Two people observed him from there hidden place.

“I cannot believe that he is the Se’hai.”

“He is not yet, but the power resides within him. Our master will have his power. But our timing must be accurate. If my first blow does not pierce the heart, we will not live to see the next day.”


	22. Chapter 22

It had been two days since Matthew had been taken, and the inevitable had happened; the news had reached the High Temple, and in a few minutes, one of the most powerful people within the Kingdoms would be arriving.

Dominic’s skin prickled and the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raised, as he felt the effects of magic in the air. Moments later the empty council chamber was occupied by the High Priestess, several priests and a dozen Temple Guard…. the High Priestess was not happy.

“Tell me, Lord Howard, why myself and the High Priest were not informed immediately of the Sevlem’s abduction?”

Dominic could hear the rebuke in her voice, but he wasn’t going to be cowed by it or her.

“Well, excuse me for being more concerned with finding my husband and the bearer of our son, than informing you,” he snapped.

The High Priestess’ reaction to his words was a raised eyebrow.

“As it should be, but we are not here to dwell on what should have been done. We have brought seekers with us to assist in finding the Sevlem and now the High Lord of the Mountains.”

Dominic nodded, seekers were the human version of scent-hounds, they could follow the trail of residual magic that any magical being left behind. If they could not track and find Matthew, then no-one or nothing could.

“The seekers will be set loose within the hour. Can you have men ready within that time?” the High Priestess said.

“Of course.”

“No more than a hundred men, and skilled in stealth as well as brute force. Yourself and Christopher will accompany us.”

“Not even the Dark itself would stop either of us, your Highness.”

The High Priestess nodded, then said, “May I see your son?”

It may have been phrased as a question, but Dominic knew it was anything but.

“He maybe asleep, but a few minutes will not harm.”

“Indeed,” she replied.

Dominic tensed as Malachi was placed in the High Priestess’ arms. He expected him to cry, but Malachi was quiet and stared at her with wide eyes.

“He has magic. You sense your father’s distress, don’t you, little one. You are going to be a powerful seer. Fear not, little lord, we will reunite you.”

The High Priestess said something in the same language that Dominic had heard Matthew and Christopher use, and frowned.

“It’s just a blessing, Lord Howard,” she said. “Shall we go and find your husband.”

*********************  
Matthew let out a small groan, as he tried to stretch. The chains were only just long enough to allow him to lay down. There was no straw and the stone was cold. His muscles ached, and the collar was troubling him. He could feel it, slowly strangling his magic.

They had brought him food, but he felt too sick to eat; the stench of blood and dark magic in the air made his stomach roil. He been woken by the sounds of people been tortured or killed, the poor souls. The smell of blood had grown stronger, blood was being spilled somewhere in this god forsaken place.

Was that going to be his fate as well? Why had they not already done so? He flinched as the scream of another poor wretch rang out, then faded away, and the smell of freshly spilt blood assaulted his again, and he wretched as a wave of dark magic washed over him.

“Damn you to the Dark!” he yelled.

“Oh, I am already part of the Dark, Sevlem.”

He peered into the shadows outside his cell, but he couldn’t see the owner of the voice.

“Hiding in the shadows, like the coward you are. Show yourself, so that I may look on the face that I am going to curse to damnation.”

“You will see it soon enough, once the required sacrifices have been made.”

“You mean spilling the blood of the innocent.”

“It is a requirement for what is to be done.”

“Blood sacrifice is nothing but twisted evil murder.”

“Well, be sure to tell my Master that when you see him. I am sure he will be delighted to hear your opinion.”

“My soul will never belong to the Dark!” he spat.

“Oh, it will and soon. The blood sacrifice is nearly complete, then I will cut your heart from your chest and my Master will feast upon your soul.”

“The gods will not allow it!”

The laugh that elicited made him go cold, but there were no words in reply, and he was left alone, and he flinched when another scream rent the air. He was not afraid to die, death was just an entrance to the world beyond. His fear was that he would never see his mother and father, nor Dominic and Malachi again, and he would be forced to watch as they joined his parents in the world beyond.

He had no way of marking the passing of time, but the screaming and the smell had eventually stopped, no doubt his own time was near.

The door to his cell opened and the same voice said.

“It is time, Sevlem. My master is awaiting you.”

He tried not to gag as he was pushed towards what was no doubt an altar. The stench of blood and other bodily fluids assaulted him and he had to swallow hard to stop himself from vomiting. The dark magic was overwhelming, and his magic, although collared, squirmed and tried to move away from it.

He fought as he was dragged forward and laid, then chained to the altar. He could feel the sticky residue of drying blood and tried to move away when a cloaked figure drew runes on his body and chanted the words of whatever dark rite was being performed.

He only stilled when he saw the glint of a bloody blade.


	23. Chapter 23

Dominic and the rest of the warriors had been hard pushed to keep up with the seekers , and the Temple Guard. They had been on the move all day, only stopping to water the horses; they ate and drank in the saddle. They were now deep inside a forest and were making camp, because of the failing light. The seekers could have carried on, but horses, snow and darkness were not a good combination.

He watched as the camp settled, and he saw some of the warriors drawing symbols in the dirt around the fires.

“What are they doing?” he asked the High Lord’s First General.

“They are wards against the Lost.”

“The Lost?”

“They believe the spirits of those that have not passed to the other realm inhabit this place.”

When Domini frowned, he explained.

“Those whose spirits have not been sent to the winds. Victims of murder whose bodies have not been found or have died in these mountains and have not gone to the flames. They fear that these poor souls in their desperate loneliness will tempt someone into the night and never come back.”

“Do you believe it?”

“I am an old warrior, my Lord. I have seen many things. There are times I swear that I have seen the spirits of enemy warriors that have fallen in battle, wander the battlefield, unable to pass on because their bodies remain. I do not believe nor disbelieve, nor do I fear them. I do fear the fate of my Lord more.”

“Your loyalty is commendable.”

“Loyalty has nought to do with it. I taught him to ride when he was six years old. I love him like he was my own son, and I would fight the Dark itself to keep him safe. He may have been hidden behinds the walls of the Temple for fifteen years, but there isn’t a warrior here that would not die for him.”

Dominic nodded, he could understand that. He’d seen it himself, the way Matthew had been taken to the hearts of his people.

“I’m coming for you, my Sevlem,” he whispered.

***********************

Matthew couldn’t take his eyes off the blade. The chanting began again, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to flick his gaze to the person holding the knife; the coward couldn’t even show his face. Someone else appeared with a bowl, fingers were dipped into it. He knew the smell immediately, and as the liquid touched his skin, his magic reacted. It hissed and clawed at the barrier the collar had created.

He knew that his death was imminent, so he focused his gaze on his murderer. He may not be able to look his murderer in the eyes, but by the gods, he would make sure that they would remember him.

The knife was raised again, this time above his heart. He gathered what strength he had left to spit a final curse, when he felt hands on the collar. As the blade came down, the collar opened.

His magic let out a roar and rushed forward, and he was filled with a rage he had never felt before. It was animalistic, the only thought being kill...kill; then the screaming began as his vision whited out.

The next thing he knew he was being blinded by something, and why did his skin feel so sticky, and why was his whole body cold?

*******************

Dominic shivered and pulled his fur-lined cape closer. Chain-mail was not the best protection against the cold. He urged his horse forward, as they followed the seekers, who seemed to be going in a straight line for once; almost like they were heading for a destination. Perhaps they were closing in on Matthew, he thought. He was still wary of the seekers, as he was certain they were not entirely human, they worked too much like a wolf-pack for his liking.

The seekers suddenly took off and any undue thoughts were pushed away as he and the rest of the warrior took off after them. The hounds that were with them had broken free of their leashes and were running after them.

“Don’t lose them!” he heard the High Priestess yell. But they did.

It was only the howling of the hounds that told them which direction they should go. Dominic pushed his horse through a patch of dense undergrowth, and only just avoided colliding with a horse in front. He was about to berate the rider when he saw why they had stopped.

The wall was huge, its black stone standing out starkly against the snow. There were no windows, only arrow slits. The howl of the hounds broke his attention; they were not in sight. He saw several riders, including Christopher break off and disappear round the end of the wall.

Moments later the hollers of “My Lord, High Priestess!” filled the air and he and the High Priestess urged their mounts forward. Dominic was the first to see Christopher and his heart nearly stopped when he saw that he was holding a bloodied and near naked Matthew.

He threw himself from his horse and tore off his cape and with Christopher’s help, wrapped his husband in it. He took him from Christopher’s arms as the High Priestess called for the physician that had been selected to accompany them.

“We need shelter,” the High Priestess said.

“We have no tents,” Christopher said.

“My Lord, High Priestess, I see a gate and it is open,” Lord Kirk said.

Dominic shook his head, “No, what if this is the place he was taken to.”

“My Lord, it looks deserted,” Lord Kirk continued. “Whoever was here has abandoned it and abandoned the High Lord.”

“No, I will not step foot inside,” Dominic said.

The physician who had arrived and was trying to examine Matthew, suddenly exploded, “For the love of the gods. The High Lord is covered in blood, and I would very much like to be able to find out if he is bleeding to death. I cannot do that in this Light forsaken snow!”

The outburst seemed to spur them into action, but they allowed the bulk of the warriors to enter first, still wary of why a stronghold like this had been abandoned. Dominic followed, still carrying Matthew, and refusing help from Christopher to carry him.

The outer courtyard was just as imposing as the walls, but again was devoid of life, yet Dominic felt incredibly uneasy; there was something about this place.

His unease was suddenly vocalised by the High Priestess.

“Strong magic was used here, both Dark and Light,” she said. “It will need to be cleansed.”

They waited for the warriors up ahead to open the gate, and they frowned when the group didn’t move once it was opened.

“What is wrong?” Dominic asked, his arms now shaking with the effort of carrying his husband.

“My Lord…dear gods,” Lord Rowe said. “You must see.”

Dominic reluctantly allowed Christopher to take Matthew and ignoring the ache in his arms he walked forward, along with the High Priestess. But when he saw what the other warriors had seen he froze and he thought he was going to lose the food he had eaten that morning.

There were bodies strewn across the courtyard...well, some were bodies, others were charred lumps and what looked like pieces of what were once people. He couldn’t move, but the High Priestess did. 

She crouched down and examined one of the bodies and stood and moments later and the body burst into flames.

“He was a servant of the Dark, I think they all are.”

Dominic looked around, “Where are the warriors that did this?”

The High Priestess looked at him, her expression grim.

“This was not done by man…this was powerful magic. Someone or something was very angry. We should find somewhere for the physician to examine the Sevlem.”

They eventually found a chamber, having faced more carnage on the way. They tried to ignore the smell of burning as the dead were gathered and disposed of.

They all looked up when the physician moved away from the bed.

“The High Lord has not been injured, apart from some minor burns to his neck, no doubt from a magic-supressing collar.”

“But all that blood,” Dominic said.

“There are no wounds, the blood is not his.”

“Then where did it…………”

His voice trailed off as it dawned on him…. no.

“I think perhaps we now know who and what killed all of those men,” the High Priestess said, her voice reflecting the horror that everyone else was feeling.

No, Dominic could not, would not believe it…. Matthew could not have done this, Matthew was not a cold-blooded murderer.

“They were killed by magic…the Sevlem’s magic.”


	24. Chapter 24

Dominic wrung the cloth out again, not looking at the blood-clouded water. He gently washed the blood from his husband. He did not want to believe that his gentle-souled mate could commit such slaughter; the High Priestess was wrong.

“You could not do such a thing.”

He stilled when Matthew stirred, hope rising that he was coming around. He was disappointed as Matthew just muttered something unintelligible, then went still again.  
“You have to wake up, my Sevlem. We must go home. I need no magic to feel the evil in this place.”

He sighed when there was no response, so he continued to wash the blood away. He only stopped when he was certain there wasn’t a trace left. There was a knock at the door, and at his invite, the physician entered, to check on his patient.

“Why does he not wake?”

“He is exhausted, physically and no doubt magically. Being collared would have been most traumatic. But he will wake, my lord.”

As the physician left, Christopher entered.

“My Lord, night is approaching, and it would be best if you did not stray beyond the rooms we have occupied. There are not enough warriors to patrol the whole stronghold. The High Priestess had forbidden anyone from entering the lower levels.”

Dominic nodded.

“We have found a cart, so we can transport the High Lord, if needs be.”

“Thank you, Christopher.”

“I will be on guard outside, if you require anything. I shall be glad to leave this place. Wicked and bloody things have happened here.”

“Agreed, tell Lord’s Rowe and Kirk that we will leave as soon after first light as possible. Inform the High Priestess as well.”

“My Lord,” Christopher said, then took his leave.

Dominic covered Matthew with the furs they had found, whilst he stoked the fire. He then quickly stripped to his underclothes. He climbed into the bed and pulled Matthew into his arms, cocooning both of them in fur and body heat.

“I want to see those beautiful eyes in the morning,” he whispered.

It was minutes later, or so it seemed, that he was woken by Matthew crying out, and trying to get out of his arms.

“Calm, you are safe,” he said, in what he hoped was a soothing and reassuring tone.

Matthew started to tremble, as if lost in some awful dream.

“Blood, nothing but blood.”

“Matthew, wake up.”

The trembling increased and Dominic was about to call for the physician, when Matthew let out a loud gasp, and his eyes flew open; they were filled with horror.

“I killed them…oh gods…I slaughtered them.”

Dominic froze, he hadn’t believed the High Priestess, but Matthew’s words shattered that disbelief; not that he would lay the blame at Matthew’s feet. He managed to catch Matthew’s eye, then said.

“You were only protecting yourself. They would have been executed for using dark magic. There is no blame. Now, sleep, we have a fair distance to travel tomorrow.”

He was expecting Matthew to argue, but he didn’t. He didn’t allow himself the peace of sleep, until he was sure that his husband had fallen into slumber. He shivered, and he wasn’t sure if it was this place that caused it, or the feeling that something was coming.

************************

Matthew refused to ride in the cart, snapping that ‘he wasn’t an invalid’. He adjusted the borrowed fur, feeling uncomfortable in the borrowed clothes then kicked his horse into motion. As High Lord, he was the one to lead, even if it was only out of the gates. He reined his horse in and let the band of warrior and other members of the party move past him.

“Wait!” he called. He heard Dominic’s enquiry, then the High Priestess say something, but he ignored them. He gathered his magic, feeling it surge forwards, eager to do his bidding. He heard the shuffling of hooves as the horses sensed his magic, then their snorts as they smelt the smoke before their riders saw it.

He did hear the murmurs when flames began to lick at the wall, and he let out a satisfied huff, before wheeling his horse around.

“Shall we go home, husband,” he said to Dominic.

He was silent after that, as he tried to calm his magic. It was still fighting to be let loose, and he could still feel the collar around his neck, and the smell of the blood and the screams of the dying. He closed his eyes, but only briefly, not wanting to see the images that flashed past every time that he did. His air of not being affected by what had happened was only a veneer; a thin and fragile one at that. But what frightened him most, was the fact that…. yes, he had been horrified by what he had done, but the fact that there was a part of him that was not.

“Matthew?”

He jumped at the voice...the High Priestess had ridden upside him.

“High Priestess.”

“Your magic has become more powerful.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Should it be?”

“Out with it, Elayna.”

“I went down to the lower levels. I know what they were trying to do.”

“Do you?”

“That ritual has dangerous consequences. Your magic took control, did it not?”

“Self- preservation.”

“No doubt, but even so, you should not have lost control of it. Uncontrolled magic is dangerous. You know what happened last time.”

He looked at her, his feature pulled into a sharp glare, “I am not him. I can control it.”

“That is what he said, and your magic is more powerful than his was.”

“I will not become like him. Enough of your doom saying, High Priestess.”

With that he urged his horse into a trot and caught up with Dominic.

“We will make camp soon, the night falls quickly here,” Dominic said.

“I care not, as long as we are far enough from that place.”

“I do not think we have anything to fear from there. I should imagine it is nigh on razed to its foundation by now.”

“More’s the pity that there was no-one left alive to burn with it.”

Dominic blinked at that, “You do not mean that.”

“They were given a better death that they deserved. You should have left their carcasses to the crows.”

Dominic was quiet for a few paces, then said.

“Perhaps we should make camp now, you must be tired.”

“Hmm, I admit my muscles are a little sore…we will stop now.”

He watched as Dominic rode forward to give the command to make camp. He’d seen the way Dominic had stiffened slightly when he’d voiced his displeasure. He shrugged his shoulder at his reaction…he was the High Lord of the Mountains, why would he care how someone reacted to his words.

He dismissed it and let his magic move closer to the surface, let its warmth comfort him…he was going to enjoy having more powerful magic.


	25. Chapter 25

Nathanial jumped when he heard the voice of the High Priestess in his head; his magic twitched in response to her power.

“My Lady.”

“Where are you quartered?”

“I am within the High Lord’s stronghold. I am awaiting the High Lord’s return. I felt my assistance will be required.”

“You are correct, mind-walker.”  
“Is he well?”

“In his body, yes. But I am concerned as to his state of mind. He has survived an attempt to steal his magic.”

“The H’karu,” he said and shuddered.

“The darkest magic, but his own magic reacted. He lost control of it, and it slaughtered everyone.”

“No more than they deserve.”

“Indeed, but he should not have lost control. His magic has grown in power, but his control does not match it.”

“My Lady, what is you require of me? I am not a teacher.”

“I would not ask you to, there are others coming that will do that. I ask you to watch over him. The Dark is stretching its claws, and its followers and allies are well hidden. I must return to the Temple.”

“I will watch over him.”

“Take care, there are many trials ahead. They may not have succeeded this time, but they will try again.”

Then the High Priestess was gone, leaving him perturbed and disturbed, but he could do nothing until the High Lord returned.

******************

“Gods, but it is cold. I for one shall be glad to be within the stronghold and in front of a good fire,” Dominic said.

“The cold does seep into the bones. But my heart is warm, knowing that I shall be holding Malachi in my arms, and then in your arms, within the warmth of our bed,” Matthew replied.

“We are still a least a day’s ride from the stronghold. But at least we will have shelter tonight, in the caves.”

“The Caves of Samhara. We will have to seek permission from the sprites that dwell there, seek their protection.”

Dominic looked at him, “Are not sprites creatures of mischief and vengeance?”

Matthew smiled, which warmed Dominic.

“Only to those with ill will in their hearts, intent on stealing their treasures. You must instruct the warriors not to touch or remove anything, no matter how it shines.”

“Of course, I wish the High Priestess and her party had not departed.”

“I am quite capable of handling irritating balls of light!” Matthew snapped.

Dominic was taken aback by Matthew’s sudden change in mood.

“Peace husband, I meant no offense.”

Matthew let out a long breath.

“My apologies, I did not mean to snap. Perhaps I am wearier that I thought.”

“You can sleep soon.”

Matthew turned in his saddle and looked him directly in the eyes.

“I do not think I will ever sleep again.”

***************************

Matthew hadn’t meant to snap at Dominic, but he was tired and his magic was still roiling. All he wanted was to be back within the safety of his stronghold, to see and hold Malachi again. He wanted to forget the smells and sounds, but he feared they would stay with him till the end of his days.

He shivered, even though they were now inside the caves and several large fires were blazing, and his stomach was warming from the stew he had eaten. He could sense the sprites, their magic buzzing around his own. He rose from his place by the fire, making sure that Dominic was pre-occupied. He slipped away from the lights of the fires and into the gloom that dominated further back.

“I am here,” he said and a few moments later, lights surrounded him.

“We are only seeking shelter for the night.”

One of the lights came closer, so he held out his hand, and it lighted onto his upturned palm. It flickered brighter for a moment.

“They will not touch what is yours. We will leave a gift in return for your protection.”

The light glowed brighter again.

“I cannot stay….”

The light suddenly flew off his palm and several others joined it.

“Matthew?” Dominic’s voice came from behind him, along with the light of a torch.

The sprites vanished back into the darkness and he sighed; sprites rarely instigated physical contact. They were creatures of magic and children of the mountains, as was he, and their magic had sung to him.

“Matthew?”

“Here,” he replied and the heat and the light from the torch filled the dark.

“What are you doing?” Dominic asked, concern etched on his face.

“Ensuring our safeguard in the caves.”

“Come back to the fire, the men were all for charging down here and smiting whatever beast had taken you.”

He gave Dominic a tired smile and let him lead him back to the fires, and the hails of relived greeting from the warriors. He stared into the fire, letting the coversation of the men chase away the tension. He started when Dominic touched his arm.

“Time to sleep, my love.”

The furs were soft and most welcome, as was Dominic’s arm, protectively curled around his waist. A soft kiss was placed against the nape of his neck.

“No-one will collar you again.”

“Do not promise something that you cannot uphold.”

He was turned and Dominic locked eyes with him, the glow of the fire adding an amber tinge to his grey eyes.

“While there is strength in my sword arm and blood in my body, no-one will place a collar around your or our son’s neck.”

He felt a surge of love towards his husband. To make such a promise, when you could not know the future, warmed his soul. He trailed a finger along Dominic’s jawline, saying nothing, letting his eyes show him how he felt.

Dominic smiled and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, “Sleep, my Sevlem, it will be a hard ride tomorrow, if we are to get through the pass before the snow closes it. Or so I am told.”

He didn’t think he could sleep, but he did.

******************

The small group of riders slid to halt…their mount snorting and breathing heavily.

“I see the glow of campfire…oh thank the gods, it’s them.”

“What, are you sure?”

The speaker received a ‘of course I am’ glare.

“Look. Sevlem or not, we will not have lost those things for long. I suggest we introduce ourselves and warn them about what had pursued us here.”

The riders nodded in assent and started to urge their exhausted mounts forward, only to stop short when armed warriors appeared from the shadows, crossbows aimed at them.

*********************

Dominic was pulled from sleep by Christopher shaking him gently. Matthew stirred when he moved away, but thankfully stilled again.

“The sentries have captured a group of intruders. They say they must speak to the High Lord and that there is danger nearby.”

“I will not wake him, they will speak to me. I will decide if there is danger and if they will speak with my husband.”

He strode out of the cave and several yards away, just shy of the tree-line, six figures were standing, surrounded by warriors.

“I am Lord Howard,” he said as he approached. “The High Lord’s First Regent…speak.”

“My Lord, we must speak with the Sevlem.”

“He is not to be disturbed.”

“Please, my Lord, there is great danger approaching.”

Dominic tensed, still on edge and hence very protective.

“From whom…you perhaps.”

One of the party, a petite looking blonde woman, stepped forward, an annoyed look on her face.

“Listen, you stupid son of a Wyrran….”

“Watch your tongue!” Christopher growled

“I will watch my tongue when the Sevlem orders it,” she replied tartly.

Dominic was starting to lose his temper. He was about to snap and order them to be bound, when Matthew’s voice interrupted.

“What is going on?”

Dominic turned and Matthew was standing, wrapped in one of the furs, a dozen warriors behind him. He looked half asleep.

The six strangers surged forward, only to be stopped by the killing end of over a dozen swords. That seemed to wake Matthew up.

“Enough, lower your blades. Now, why is it so urgent that you speak with me and what is….”

A howl echoed through the trees.

“Wolves,” Christopher said.

Another howl echoed, and another, much closer to them.

“I think we should go back to the caves.”

“It is just wolves, they will not approach so many men.”

“No, my Lord,” one of the six riders said urgently, “They are not just wolves.”

A scream suddenly rent the air and one of the warriors standing next to the trees was yanked back into them…then out of the shadows of the forest a wolf emerged; it was huge.

“Dire wolves!” Christopher yelled.


	26. Chapter 26

“On your left!”

“Ware your flanks!”

“Keep together...gods, keep together!”

Growls and snarls and the snapping of jaws filled the air. One of the wolves charged, barrelling into the warriors, fracturing the ring of steel.

“Stay together!” Dominic’s voice rose over the cacophony.

Another scream as a warrior died in the jaws of a wolf, this time it was one of the warriors protecting Matthew, and the group scattered. Dominic couldn’t blame them, they were young and would never have faced anything like a dire wolf. But it meant that Matthew was exposed to the jaws of one of the wolves.

“Matthew!” he bellowed.

***********************

Matthew had woken when he felt the lack of Dominic’s presence. He sat up and realised that a fair few of the warriors had gone as well, along with Christopher, He stood and wrapped one of the furs around himself and began walking towards the cave entrance.

“My Lord, you should stay inside.”

Several of the remaining warriors, the youngest by the looks of them stood.

“I do not believe I will,” he replied and continued walking.

“Then we shall accompany you, or Lord Howard will have our heads.”

“If you wish,” he said and continued out of the cave. He only stopped when he reached the large group that included Dominic.

He blinked rapidly to remove the sleep from his head. He’d just asked what was going on, when a howl cut a cold swathe through his body. His unofficial bodyguards edged closer to him, then around him when a warrior was dragged screaming into the trees. It tightened even further when the dire wolf appeared.

Chaos then fell as one of the wolves charged, hitting the warriors and scattering them. They managed to regroup until one of their number died in the jaws of another wolf.

Now he was exposed to the very large wolf that had been standing back. He heard Dominic bellow his name, but the sound faded as he locked eyes with the wolf…this was the Alpha, he could sense it. He knew what he had to do, but to do it meant taking a huge risk. He raised one eyebrow, set his jaw, turned, and then ran.

He could feel more than hear the wolf come after him. As he ran he allowed his magic to seep to the surface, allowing it to give him enough speed to say just ahead of the wolf. With that agility that years of training and the illicit climbing of the fruit trees in the temple orchard had ingrained in him, he scampered up one of the large trees, whose trunk had grown at an old angle.

“Si hec mae ist bruen,” he said in the ancient language of the temple.

He knew that dire wolves were too large to climb, but they could jump. He looked down and saw the wolf circling the tree. He jumped when it leapt and managed to scrabble some way up the trunk. He hissed when he felt a branch scrape against his cheek.

The wolf jumped again and it seemed determined to get to him.

“Si hec mae ist bruen!” he yelled, using a little more mag to strengthen the call.

He jumped again and nearly lost his footing when the wolf once again tried to reach him. Then he sensed it, as did the wolf…. help was coming.

A roar shattered the air as a huge bear burst from the shadows and collided with the wolf. Matthew couldn’t see the fight, but he could hear it and smell it… the growls and the smell of blood. When it fell silent, it felt unnerving, his nerves, muscles and magic were as tight as a bow-string. Moments later the odd mix of grunts and snuffles told him that the bear had been victorious, and he watched as the bloodied bear faded back into the forest.

“My Lord!”

“Matthew!”

The sudden call of his name filled him with some relief; it meant they had overcome the rest of the pack.

“Matthew!” Dominic’s voice rang out, there was a hint of panic in it.

“This way!” he called.

It took several minutes before he spotted the blond hair of his husband, clearer in the moonlight than the darker silhouette that was no doubt Christopher. As they got closer, he could see that Dominic did not look happy; he began to wonder if he should stay up the tree.

Dominic said nothing until he’d climbed down and Christopher had fussed over him, checking for injuries…then he exploded.

“What in all of the god’s names were you thinking!?”

“I was trying to help.”

“And getting it to chase you was helping?!”

“I thought I could distract it.”

“Distract it, by becoming its next meal.”

“Well, it did not.”

That didn’t seem to appease Dominic.

“God’s damn it, Matthew. I have only just got you back, and you go and….”

He was suddenly pulled into Dominic’s arms, and a “I will not lose you again,” was whispered in his ear.

***********************

Dominic’s anger had cooled slightly by the time they had located Matthew, but not enough to stop him expressing his anger and fear. He’s seen the stand-off between his husband and the dire wolf, his stomach curdling at the sight. Then he’d seen Matthew turn and run, followed moments later by the wolf.

He tried to fight his way out of the melee that was the struggle to keep the other wolves at bay, whilst trying to dispose of them.

“My Lord, let us help! Some of us have magic!”

He whirled round and saw the blonde woman. He gave her a curt nod and the tide of the struggle turned in their favour. Soon there were a half dozen dead dire wolves, and some very skittish and wary warriors. But Dominic and no time to celebrate…. he had to find Matthew.

He went to run in the direction he’d seen Matthew and the wolf go, but a strong hand halted him.

“My Lord, less speed and more caution,” Christopher said.

The next thirty marks were the longest he’d known since he’d been forced to wait outside the physician’s rooms, after Matthew had been attacked by Marcus. Relieve washed over him when he heard Matthews’s answer to his call, turning his panic and fear into anger…anger that he’d done something so reckless. 

But his anger only lasted for a few words, then he pulled Matthew into his arms.

*********************

“I thought we had lost them, but instead we brought them straight to you…forgive us.”

Christopher let out a growl before saying, “How do we not know that you were the ones that called them. You have shown us no papers or sigils to show who you serve.”

“They were lost when the pack first set upon us.”

That earned a disbelieving snort from Christopher.

“How timely,” Dominic said.

Himself and Christopher were questioning the small group, well away from Matthew who had fallen into an exhaustion fuelled sleep.

“Please, my Lord. We were sent by the god’s,” one of the men said. “I had a vision and was told to gather this group and find the Sevlem. We are to protect him and deliver a message to you, my Lord.”

“Then speak the message.”

“Beware the viper that will come amongst the nest. It will strike at the heart and the Sevlem shall be struck with its venom”

“You threaten the High Lord,” Christopher snarled and began drawing his sword.

“Not us, it is a warning from the gods, we are but the messengers.”

Dominic closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke, “You are not to speak to my husband about this. I will allow you to accompany us to the High Lord’s stronghold. But be warned, if word comes to me that you are untruthful, I will throw you from the stronghold walls myself.”

The small group bowed, “Yes, my Lord.”

“Then let us get some rest, the journey tomorrow will be long and we will not wait for stragglers.”

***********************

The journey the next day was done in near silence, except for Matthew’s barked orders to Christopher about keeping the whole troop together. Matthew was now leading, and he pushed them hard, eyes fixed on the path, with occasional glances at the snow and ice covered wall of the pass.

The whole group was twitchy, as there were distant creaks and cracks and the occasional rumble from above. In some parts they had to walk, muzzling their horses with their hands, breathing shallowly, lest a deeper one send the whole of the pass down upon them.

Once they had made it through the pass, Matthew set a punishing pace, only pausing briefly when the physician foisted a potion on him. He only slackened the pace when the stronghold came into view.

The courtyard was a clamour of hooves and servants and stablehnads. Dominic didn’t get chance to reach Matthew, as he swept away in the company of the priests and was told that he would be sequestered within the stronghold temple, and not even Dominic was allowed to disturb him.

Reluctantly he retired to their chambers, held his son for a while, then slipped into bed. He was woken at some time in the night by Matthew joining him. He turned and faced his husband, who’s eyes seemed to glitter in the light from the single candle.

“Dominic,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Can you just hold me…. I was…I am so lost.”


	27. Chapter 27

Those few words that were spoken in a soft whisper, burnt through Dominic’s chest, like a heated blade.

“No, my love, you are not lost, you are found.”

In the soft light of the fire and the candles, he saw Matthew shake his head. “I killed all of those people.”

“You were defending yourself.”

“You do not understand…my magic. My magic murdered them,” Matthew’s voice rose in volume.

“You cannot murder the guilty.”

Matthew frowned, “The guilty? Matthew’s eyes widened, “She did not tell you…oh gods.”

“Matthew?”

Mathew didn’t respond.

“Matthew?”

“Those poor souls…. the innocent...all that blood.”

“Matthew, I do not understand.”

“My magic, they wanted to steal my magic. They used blood magic…the blood of the innocent….”

Matthew trailed off, and his breathing increased, and he began to tremble.

Dominic reached out and placed a hand on Mathew’s arm. The physician had said that this might happen; he needed to calm his husband, stop the flashback and the panic that was likely to follow. But Matthew jerked away, eyes unfocused, lost in whatever had happened beneath that fortress.

“Matthew, please,” he said and reached for him again.

He jumped when Matthew let out a cry and scrambled backwards and fell off the bed.

“Matthew!”

“Oh gods…make it swift…please, make it swift!”

Then two things happened at once, the fire that had been dying down flared into life, and Malachi let out a frightened wail. It was that wail that snapped Matthew out of his flashback.

“Malachi!” he cried, and ignoring Dominic he crawled over to the crib. He picked him up and began rocking him. “Ssh, little one,” he crooned and shifted to sit cross-legged. He started to hum a lullaby.

Dominic finally moved and joined him on the floor, but he still ignored him. So, he sat opposite and waited. Matthew’s mind was very troubled, and he wasn’t sure how to help him.

********************

Christopher watched the six newcomers warily. He’d been instructed by Lord Howard to watch them, and if he saw signs that their intentions were to mean harm, he was to throw them in the dungeons. He still found it highly suspicious that they managed to find them, but he kept that to himself. The Sevlem seemed to trust them, but he knew that was because the Sevlem was a gentle trusting soul at heart; not a hardened untrusting warrior like himself.

He still itched to get his hands on High Prince Marcus and drag him from the High King’s Palace and hang him from the walls, and no assassin was going to get close to the Sevlem. He could still vividly remember his first meeting with the Sevlem. He let his mind wander back to the day.

_“I want to go to the market. The silk traders are here today!”_

_Christopher heard the voice of a young man or perhaps a boy as he walked through the gates of the High Temple._

_“You are not permitted to leave the temple, not until you have a protector assigned.”_

_“I can protect myself.”_

_He stopped when he heard the other voice; his curiosity piqued._

_“Perhaps, but there have been reports of flesh peddler’s and slavers. Your magic is not yet strong enough, and it has been erratic. You would make a pretty prize for any trader of flesh.”_

_“I want to go!”_

_“You cannot.”_

_Christopher continued walking, thinking that the conversation was over, when he was nearly knocked over by a slight figure that barrelled into him._

_The slight figure was floored and Christopher looked down at the figure, once he had regained his own balance. The slight figure turned out to be a young boy, who was dressed in the garb of a temple priest._

_“My apologies,” Christopher said and held out a hand to help him up._

_A pair of startling blue eyes flicked over his face, before taking it._

_“No harm done.” It sounded like the voice he’d heard only moments ago._

_He was about to speak when several temple guards and a very distraught priest appeared._

_“Sevlem…thank the gods. Escort the Sevlem back to his rooms,” the priest said._

_Christopher was ignored, but the boy….no, the Sevlem looked back, a look that was full of sadness and longing. It only hit him once the boy was gone…. the Sevlem, the Blessed of the Gods. That sad, lonely looking boy was the centre of the Five Kingdoms religious world; the one that the gods spoke to and through._

_He’d come to the High Temple to seek redemption for the lives he had taken in battle. He never expected that he would see or speak to the Sevlem. He thought he would only see him from a distance at some religious ceremony or just before he disappeared behind the walls of the High King’s palace. He expected he would never see him again, after their short encounter, but he did._

_A year later he was swearing his fealty to that same boy. But this time, the boy was not sad or lonely, but self-assured and growing into his body and his magic; he was every inch the religious icon he was meant to be._

He pushed the memory away as the little group started to leave. He made sure that every individual returned to their quarters, with a guard near the entrance of each. Only then did he return to his place outside the High Lord and Lord Howard’s rooms. He did not relax, his warrior blood keeping him on edge…the uneasy feeling that things were going to get bloody and violent and soon, leaving him tense.

**********************

“Hush, little one,” Matthew spoke to Malachi through their magic link, sending a wave of calm. Malachi responded with his own wave of magic. Matthew started to hum a lullaby and the wave of magic turned into a soft, happy sounding gurgle. He could sense that Dominic was near, but his entire focus was on Malachi. It had been his frightened wail that had snapped him out of the flashback. But why had his son been so frightened? He rocked Malachi and only stopped humming when he felt him slip back into sleep. Only then did he allow himself to notice Dominic.

“Husband,” he said softly.

“Matthew, what happened?”

“I lost myself, I am sorry.”

“The physician said this might happen. I have sent word to Morgan, he will arrive within the next few days. He has treated others who have suffered such things.”

Matthew nodded, then said, “I shall go and consult the gods.”

“No, you are going back to bed,” Dominic said.

“They will help me.”

“I am sure they would not want you to forego sleep.”

He shook his head again and stood. Dominic stood as well, blocking his way. He went to move around him, but Dominic mirrored his move.

“Let me pass.”

“No, bed…now.”

“Are you telling me what to do?”

“I am.”

“I am the High Lord of the Mountains. I tell you what to do.”

“Really….so if I do this?”

He let out a most un-High Lord like squeak as Dominic picked him up, bridal style. He should have felt indignant, but a flash of desire ran through him.

“I will have you thrown into the dungeons.”

“Is that so…and if I do this?” Dominic said and carried him over to the bed and dropped him on it.

“I will have to punish you.”

Dominic straddled him and raised one eyebrow. “Without a trial?”

“I am the High Lord. I am judge and jury.”

Dominic leant forward, until his mouth was right next to an ear; his warm breath heating Matthew’s blood further. “And what would your verdict be?”

Matthew’s felt his breath hitch when lips grazed the skin behind said ear.

“Guilty.”

“And my punishment?”

He let out a low moan, when teeth replaced lips. “To share my bed for life,” he breathed through another moan.

“In that case, High Lord, I plead guilty and accept your judgement.”

Any reply Matthew would have made, was lost in the rush of heat when Dominic moved onto his oh so sensitive collarbones…and any thoughts of consulting the gods went with it.

***********************

The riders galloped into the charred ruins of the stronghold. A warrior ran towards them and skidded to a halt.

“Is there no-one left alive?”

“None, my Lord.”

The rider who had spoke turned to look at the rider next to him.

“This place stinks of powerful white magic.

“The Sevlem?”

“No, not the Sevlem…the Se’hai.”


	28. Chapter 28

“By the gods, if I have to listen to one more ‘my stall should be there and not yours’.”

“They can be tedious, my Lord. But these judgements will reflect how the people judge you. Your judgements have been fair and sound. Fortunately, that was the last, my Lord. My Lord, may I speak freely?”

“Of course.”

“On behalf of the council, I must ask. How goes the High Lord’s recovery?”

Dominic was expecting this question, “The physician’s say he can resume his duties within the next few days. I take it this is to do with the Gathering?”

“Forgive me, my Lord, they are concerned because the High Lord is young, and yet to consolidate his position amongst those outside of the northern lords and tribes. There are those that will be attending that will try to take advantage of his inexperience.”

“I understand. The power he wields as High Lord and Sevlem is a tempting prize for anyone of lesser morals. But rest assured, the council need not fear. Their Lord will show he cannot be swayed by pretty words or trinkets.”

“My Lord.”

Dominic had not been born when the last Gathering had taken place. But his Father had told him how he and his own father had ridden out, with all the trappings of his station. Now, he would be riding out, not with his father, but with his husband, the most powerful noble outside of the Royal palace…no, outside of the throne.

He could understand the council’s concern; he was concerned. Matthew was physically recovered, but there was something…something he couldn’t quite place. Matthew was different, not markedly so, but a subtle something.

********************************

Matthew watched the activity in the courtyard from the balcony. He knew it had been a court day, and he had wanted to preside, which had led to a heated argument with both physicians; he had lost. He would have been annoyed, but he had the small matter of the Gathering to think on.

They would be leaving in a few days, for the Plains of Hemath; the traditional site for the Gathering. He would have attended the Gathering as the first Sevlem in…. well, generations. Now, he was also going as the High Lord of the Mountains. Every important Lord and Chieftain would be attending, and he had no doubt that some wouldn’t care that he was married, and try and court him.

He knew that the Western Tribes Chief of Chieftains had more than one wife and many concubines. He could handle that, he’d been fending off such advances since he had come of child-bearing age. What he wasn’t sure he could handle was the presence of the High King and with him High Prince Marcus.

He felt his magic twitch, as the thought of drowning Marcus in his own blood rose unbidden. Where had that dark thought come from, and why was he not revolted by the idea? A pull on his magic by his son washed away the thought. He turned away from the courtyard and went back inside, He picked up Malachi and carried him to the window.

“I know you are too young to understand, and I wish that the Gathering was not until you are older. But I cannot leave you here, so far away.”

Malachi let out a happy gurgle, that morphed in a baby laugh. Matthew smiled at the image that Malachi sent through their magical link.

“I think it is time for a walk.”

******************

Dominic let out a long breath as he stepped into the courtyard. He needed something to rid himself of the tension that had built up. So, he headed for the training field. He stopped a servant and asked him to find his squire and tell him to bring his sparring armour to the field. He was in the middle of sparring with one of the newly promoted warriors, when for some reason the warrior became distracted, and Dominic put him on the ground.

“You must never let your concentration waiver. It could mean your life. What distracted you?”

“I am afraid that would have been me,” a familiar voice said

He turned and there was Matthew, and beside him was a matron, carrying Malachi.

“My Lord,” he said, bowing.

“Lord Howard, you can hardly blame him. I doubt he has been this close to his Lord. Perhaps a demonstration on how to resist distraction is needed.”

Dominic could hear the challenge in Matthew’s voice

“Are you volunteering?”

“I am.”

Dominic gestured to one of the warriors. “You look about the same size as your Lord. Lend him your armour and sword.”

The warrior looked at Matthew, who nodded, and a few minutes later Matthew had gotten the feel of the loaned armour and sword.

Dominic knew that Matthew would be a skilled fighter; having been trained by the best, no doubt. They traded blows and Dominic found that Matthew’s fighting style was very much like the Eastern way, Christopher’s influence. They ended up with crossed blades and face to face. Then Matthew whispered something incredibly filthy. 

He hesitated, then found himself on the floor, the point of a blade at his chest.

Matthew grinned and looked at the young warrior, “Everyone can get distracted. Speak with your commander. He will help you learn to focus.”

Matthew held out his free hand and Dominic took it, allowing him to pull him up.

“Enough for today,” he said. “Sir Berwen, finish your selection and present them to Christopher. We leave for Hemath the day after ‘morrow.”

Sir Berwen bowed and gestured to the warriors, who began to leave the field. 

Dominic leant over and said, “I will get you back for that.”

Matthew smiled that ‘we will see’ smile, as their armour was removed. He took Malachi from the matron.

“Walk with me, we have things to discuss.”

***********************

“This was my mother’s favourite place, so I was told. It was just a patch of dirt before she arrived. She had magic, not like mine, but magic non-the-less. They said flowers sprang forth as soon as she stepped onto the dirt.”

“These are desert flowers, they should not grow here.”

“Like I said, my mother had magic.”

Matthew placed Malachi on the grass, and he immediately began crawling towards the nearest flower.

“I believe he is about to start teething. He will not be a happy baby during the Gathering.”

“I wish you would reconsider talking him.”

“I will not leave him behind. He will be better protected amongst the Northern encampment. He goes, end of discussion.”

Dominic sighed, “Let us not argue, there will be enough of that at the Gathering.”

“True…High Prince Marcus will be there.”

Dominic scowled, “He deserves to die.”

“Peace, husband. The gods will punish him in their own time.”

“I should call him out at the Gathering.”

“The High King would have you cut down.”

“This is all wrong. If it were anyone else, their head would long be separated from their body.”

“I doubt that. I was only beaten, not violated. The most he would have to do is pay recompense.”

Dominic had to fight to keep the neutral expression on his face; Matthew still did not recall the rape.

“He and his thrice damned father do not have enough gold or precious stones to recompense for what he did.”

He placed a hand on one of Matthew’s cheeks, and traced a thumb over the small scar that had been left by Marcus’ ring.

“The five kingdoms do not have enough treasure to recompense.”

Matthew leant into his touch, then was distracted by Malachi as he tried to eat the flower that he had pulled up.

*********************

The courtyard was full of squires and servants, readying the horses of the warriors that were awaiting the High Lord and his First Regent.

“Mount up!” came the call, as the High Lord and his First Regent appeared.

The High Lord stopped by a small carriage, before mounting his golden coloured steed.

“Sire Malen, Sir Lannas, you will ride with the carriage and escort Lord Malachi.”

“My Lord,” they said together.

“Move out,” the High Lord said.

The small entourage emerged from the stronghold and were joined by more warriors.

Christopher rode up to join Matthew and Dominic.

“We should reach the Pass of Neam by sundown. The Chief of Chieftains will meet us there.”

Matthew nodded and urged his mount into a trot, and the entourage followed.

**********************

At the rear, the six people who had joined them at the caves watched the large group of warriors and servants.

“So, no-one outside of those closest to the Sevlem know what truly happened at the shrine.”

“I did not until the God and Goddess revealed it to me in a dream. The High Prince has committed a vile crime. It is time for him to pay recompense.”

“How, they will not say anything, cannot say anything.”

“That is as maybe, but they cannot prevent rumours and gossip.”

“This could start a rebellion.”

“I only follow the will of the God and Goddess. What men do is not within my control. Let the gods decide who will listen and believe.”


	29. Chapter 29

The Chief of Chieftains bellowed orders at his chiefs.

“The High Lord is only minutes away. The gods help you if he is displeased!”

“Calm, my husband,” the woman next to him said. “I hear the High Lord is not a demanding man, he is gentle in nature.”

“Hmm, I hear he is not so gentle.”

“Then we wait and see what kind of man he is. But no matter what he is, he is our Lord.”

“That he is…for the love of, where did you learn to ride!”

The First Wife of the Chief of Chieftains sighed; her husband was overreacting. The High Lord was not a god. What he was, was a man…granted, he was the Sevlem as well, and had already borne a son. So, it would be her and the Second and Third wives, that would be the balm on any stormy waters.

“The High Lord approaches!” and every person present tensed.

********************

Matthew shifted in the saddle, trying to ease the ache in his right shoulder. It had been damaged when Marcus had attacked him. It had healed, but it stiffened and ached sometimes. They had been riding for most of the day, as they knew that the Northern tribes were waiting for them. He shouldn’t be nervous; he’d met far more powerful people, for the god’s sakes.

“A silver piece for them,” a voice said.

“Hmm?”

“Your thoughts, my Lord.” It was Nathanial.

“You cannot read them?”

“Only the gods can do that. Although, I can guess it is about the Chief of Chieftains and the tribes.”

“It is, tell me, what do you think?”

“I have never met a Chief of Chieftains. But I have had dealings with tribes in the West. They are warriors also, and they respect strength.”

“So, the soft approach will not work then?”

“For the warriors, no. But the wives, the softer approach is better. You have a young babe, for them to see your softer side would make them strong allies. After all, for all the warrior’s bluster, it is the women that hold the power. They do give birth to sons.”

“I thank you for your input. I will need you when I meet with the Chieftains. A mind-walker tends to keep people honest.”

“I think, my Lord, your presence will keep them honest. No sane chieftain would want to anger a High Lord, who happens to be the Sevlem, has powerful magic and can talk to the gods.”

“Perhaps, can you ask Lord Howard to come forward.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

********************

Dominic had stayed with the carriage that carried their son. He knew that Matthew had wanted to do so, but it was his duty to lead the column. But he cut a lonely figure in the distance. A rider was approaching; it was the mind-walker.

“My Lord, the High Lord requests that you go forward.”

Dominic nodded. He was about to push his horse into a trot, when Nathanial said.

“My Lord, a word of advice, in my capacity as a mind walker. I fear this comes far too soon after what happened at that place. I fear his mind is not ready for this, and that he may have difficulty being in the presence of the High Prince, He has yet to recall the full events of the attack.”

“I do not want him to recall it.”

“But he will, at some time.”

“You think seeing Marcus might do that?”

“I cannot be certain. My skills are not in the workings of the mind. I see only images, not thoughts or emotions. But it would be wise not to let him be alone in the company of the High Prince.”

Dominic said nothing, he just kicked his horse into moving.

“Matthew,” he said, as he pulled up sides of his husband.

“Lord Howard.”

Oh, that was formal.

“My Lord?”

“Send the emissary, with an escort to inform the Chief of Chieftains that we will be arriving shortly. I want all the mounted warriors up front. The foot soldiers will stay at the rear. All will be fully armoured.”

“Yes, my Lord,” he replied.

“Make sure my standard can be seen,

“You want to impress the tribes, my Lord.”

“I have been informed that a show of strength is required. My warriors are impressive, are they not?”

“They are, my Lord.”

“Oh gods…please, enough with the honorific. You are my husband, not a vassal Lord.”

“I am your First, and it is right that I call you my Lord.”

“Not when we are like this.”

“You sounded so High Lord, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Matthew sighed, “My apologies.”

“No need, my love. I like the I am in charge you.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow, and a look that promised interesting times in the bedchamber.

“We will stop just before we sight the camp, and come to order.”

They rode in silence after that, until Matthew halted the column…. time to become the High Lord of the Mountains.

Dominic’s pride in Matthew ratcheted up even further, when every warrior apart from the Chief of Chieftains took a metaphorical step back before bowing.

“My Lord,” the Chief of Chieftains said and bowed.

Matthew inclined his head, then dismounted and held out his hand.

“Vassar,” he said.

Vassar smiled, before gripping his forearm, seemingly pleased that the High Lord knew his name.

“Come, eat and then rest.”

********************

Matthew let out a long sigh, as he leant back, the reassuring solid heat of Dominic behind him. The bath was so needed, easing the tension in his muscles and his nerves.

“You certainly made an impression,” Dominic said.

He let out a snort, “Right, did you see how big he was. I was quaking in my boots.”

“It didn’t show.”

“He had a grip like a bear.”

“And yet, he flinched when you put that upstart in his place.”

“He broke protocol. You do not draw a weapon in the presence of the High Lord, unless there is a threat to his life. Perhaps the small whirlwind was too much.”

Dominic’s laugh vibrated along his spine.

“It proved its point, don’t mess with me.”

“Yes, but I still have to prove myself at the Gathering.”

“And you will, my Sevlem…you will.”

********************

The robed figure made its way through the camp unnoticed; not that any warrior would be able to stop them. He had only one target and one purpose. He found the tent he wanted and stepped inside.

“I said I do not want to be disturbed.”

“I do not follow your orders.”

The robed figure didn’t hide his distaste, when the other man threw the near naked and terrifidyoung man out of his tent with a snarled “do not bother finding clothes.”

“What do you want. I am busy.”

“So, I see. He bears a remarkable likeness to the Sevlem.”

The man’s lips curled into a sneer, “A poor substitute, what is so important that you disturb my entertainment.”

“It is time for you to fulfil your side of the bargain you struck, High Prince Marcus.”


	30. Chapter 30

The Plains of Hemath are a vast expanse of grassland, bordered by two rivers. It was normally the home of wild creatures and flowers; it nary saw a human, unless it was to hunt the wilder beast.

But now, it was covered, not by grazing herds or colourful flowers, but by tents and humans, their colours that of their Duke or Lord or Chieftain. The plain was busy, like a colony of ants, all knowing their task, but it stopped when the call went out that the High Lord of the Mountains was arriving.

The blues and yellows of his standard were the first to be seen, then the High Lord himself, with his First, Lord Howard by his side. A wave of colour flowed beside them as people bowed as they made their way towards their allotted ground.

The camp settled again, to await the arrival of the High King.

*************************  
Matthew stood on the small rise that separated his camp from the rest. His rank allowed him to have one of the best spots, near the river, with the shelter of the trees that lined it. He was looking for the location of the camps that belonged to the more influential and powerful of the Five Kingdoms. He was deciding who would be dining with him over the course of the Gathering. The politics of the nobility was an anathema to him, but he could play the game.

He sighed and turned away, better get on with it. Tomorrow the High King and the High Priest and Priestess would be arriving, and so would Marcus. He tried to suppress the shudder that went through him, as the memory of what had happened resurfaced. He quickly pushed it away, he couldn’t be hamstrung by emotions. He schooled his features into calm and re-entered his camp.

***********************************

The manservant laid out breakfast, before going about his other tasks.

“So, our king arrives today,” Dominic said.

“Yes,” his husband replied.

“And the High Priest and Priestess.”

His husband only nodded this time.

“I heard there will be a giant three-headed pink and yellow spotted peacock as well.”

“That will be…wait, there is no such thing.”

“Oh, you are with us then?” Dominic said, trying, and failing to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Sorry, a lot on my mind.”

“The High King, you should not worry.”

“Do not underestimate the High King. We must watch our words and our step.”

“Matthew, you are High Lord of the Mountains. Even the High King would think twice before causing you offence.”

“I am not here to cause tension between the Kingdoms.”

“You will have to deal with Marcus.”

“And I will, but you will not.”

Dominic scowled, “But….”

He was cut off by his husband, “No…as your Lord I forbid you to. You will not react to anything he might say or do. My word is final, Dominic. Now, with the High Priest and Priestess here, I am going to present Malachi at the feast after the Blessing.”

Dominic eyebrows raised; Matthew may not be here to cause friction, but by presenting his heir he would be throwing a large ball of friction into the ring.

“Husband, I thought you were not here to cause friction?”

Matthew smiled that smile, the smile that told Dominic that Matthew knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, I am not. I am just showing a certain prince that he has not succeeded in what he wanted to do.”

**************************

The High King arrived just after the sun had passed the midday. Dominic felt Matthew tense, not because of the High King, but his son, whose gaze had zeroed in on him and had never wavered.

But Matthew’s voice was strong when he spoke.

“Sire,” he said and bowed.

“High Lord,” the High King said. “My condolences on your father’s passing. He was a loyal and brave friend to and of the throne.”

Matthew inclined his head in response.

Dominic tensed when Matthew turned his attention to the High Prince.

“My Lord,” he bowed again.

“A pleasure to see you again, Matthew.”

Dominic could feel the people behind him tense at the breech of protocol.

“Marcus, you do not call the High Lord by his given name, unless he requests it,” the High King said.

“My apologies, High Lord.”

Dominic had to hold his tongue, Marcus did not sound in the least bit contrite.

“Apologies accepted,” Matthew said, then deliberately ignored Marcus. “By your leave, Sire, I must prepare for the Blessing of the Gathering.”

“Of course, we shall talk later.”

“Sire,” Mathew said, then turned away, and the camp returned to its business.

*********************

Marcus never took his eyes of Matthew, once he’d gotten close enough to spot him. His desire for the Sevlem and now High Lord hadn’t lessened. It burned even hotter since he’d taken him at the temple; the sight of that creamy skin beneath him, and the sounds of fear and pain adding fuel to his desire. He’d had every intention of taking the Sevlem with him; he would make an entertaining bed-warmer.

He cared not about the ramifications; he had the protection of his father, and no-one would risk a war, not even for someone like Matthew. By the gods, he had become even more attractive since he had last seen him. It seemed having Howard’s bastard agreed with him.

Well, he thought, he would not be having anymore by that mongrel…. oh, he was going to enjoy killing him. He would make Matthew watch as he slaughtered his husband and gave their bastard to the wolves. He’d been promised that, when he had struck his deal, and it rankled him that he’d had to wait…. but it wouldn’t be long now.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something heinous happens.........

Matthew had sequestered himself inside the tent that held the altar, and was the living quarters of the High Priest and Priestess. Marcus had rattled him, but not as much as he thought he would. Now, any thoughts about him had been overtaken by the preparation for the Blessing, and the ceremony itself. He could have stayed in the tent overnight, but he wanted to get back to Malachi and Dominic.

The camp was quiet, with only the sentries and the patrols to salute him as he passed or was passed. He decided to take the path that ran next to the river, it was a shorter route back to his tent. He was passing some tall rived reed, his mind not really focused on where he was going, hence he was not prepared for Marcus to step out.

He stumbled back in surprise, only to be caught by Marcus and pulled back.

“It is dangerous to walk unescorted, my Lord. There are river serpents in abundance here. I believe I saw a large constrictor stalking you.”

Matthew looked down at the hand that held his arm.

“I thank you for your concern,” he said frostily, and used his free hand to remove Marcus’s hand…well, he tried.

“Allow me to escort you to your tent, my Lord.”

“I think not, my Lord.”  
“It would be a tragedy if you were killed or maimed.”

Matthew felt Marcus’s grip tighten, and a spark of panic ran along his nerves.

“Please remove your hand, my Lord.”

Marcus only tightened his grip further, then smiled.

“I only wish to ensure your footing. The ground is too dry, and I fear it may crumble underfoot.”

Matthew felt his magic twitch at the lie, and at the increased pressure on his arm. He let a little of his magic trickle out, feeling the heat increasing in his arm; no doubt Marcus could feel it too.

“As I asked, please remove your hand. Or do you think the most dangerous thing here is a serpent.”

Marcus jerked his hand away.

“I bid you goodnight, my Lord.”

He went to move past, but Marcus blocked his way, and grabbed him again. Before he could react, he was forced into a bruising and painful kiss. He was too stunned to react at first, then his wits finally came to him and he pushed Marcus away, only for him to grab his arm again.

“You will be mine, Matthew,” he hissed. “And you will learn your place.”

He let go then and disappeared down the path.

Matthew swallowed back the bile that rose, tasting the coppery tang of blood; the bastard had bit his lip. He let out a shaky breath, his heart was racing, and his magic refused to settle. He continued up the path, but had only gone fifty paces, when he saw a patrol approaching…. oh hells, it was his own warriors.

“My lord, we thought you were….my Lord, you are bleeding!”

****************************

Dominic’s temper went up another notch when Matthew hissed as Morgan dabbed numbing liquid on his lip. If it had not been for Christopher standing in his way, he would have stormed in the High Prince’s tent and slaughtered him.

“This should go before the High Council,” he snarled.

“And start a war,” Morgan replied.

“Peace, husband,” Matthew said, brushing aside Morgan’s hand. “I am unharmed, and Morgan is right. It is not worth the conflict.”

“But he assaulted you, again!”

“No!” Matthew snapped. “No-one outside of this tent knows what really happened. My warriors believe I stumbled and injured myself, and that is the story that will be told.”

“Matthew….” Dominic began to say.

“I will not be the cause of innocent blood being shed.”

Dominic was not going to accept that, “Matthew, he cannot be allowed…”

“Enough!” Matthew roared. “Do not question my decision!”

Dominic flinched, he’d never had Matthew’s anger directed at him; not even in their heated arguments.

“Leave us,” he said.

Once everyone had left, he fell to his knees in front of his husband.

“Forgive me, my Lord.”

Matthew let out sigh, that seemed to dispel his anger, “There is nothing to be forgiven for. I should not have reacted like that.”

He reached out and placed a hand on Dominic’s face.

“I am sorry.”

Dominic took the hand and kissed it.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, I was half-expecting to see Marcus’s carcass being hauled from the river. It would have, if it had been me and I had magic.”

“Then it is fortunate that you do not. As I once said, the gods will decide his fate. Now, get off your knees, because I am tired and wish to go to bed. Let tomorrow fall as it will.”

*************************  
The robed figure shivered when he felt the presence of his master. He dare not look into the shadows where his master stood.

“You disappoint me and our lord, Elyas.”

“Master?”

“You do not keep the High Prince in check.”

“I do not understand.”

“His lust for the Sevlem endangers our Lord’s plans. You will remind him of his place. The Sevlem is not his until our Lord says that he is.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Our Lord’s strength continues to grow, as does his army. But the Five Kingdoms must be weakened…there must be war.”

“And there will be, but it will take time, Master.”

“Our Lord has decided to quicken the war, and there is one sure way to ignite it….”

*******************

Matthew clung onto Dominic as they walked back towards the camp and their tent. His head felt slightly fuzzy from the warm spiced wine he had drank at the feast.

“You cannot hold you wine, can you?” Dominic said.

“Pfft, I can,” he said, and to prove it, he let go of Dominic’s arm, but instantly veered to the left.

Dominic laughed, “Of course you can. Come, High Lord, let us get to bed before you decide to sleep in the grass. Look, Christopher and Samuel are waiting for us to catch up.”

He frowned when Dominic stopped, next to Christopher and Dominic’s personal bodyguard.

“What is it?”

“Where are the guards?” Christopher said.

Matthew sobered at that…then let out a small gasp when he saw a leg sticking out of the long grass.

Christopher walked over and into the grass, but was out again a moment later.

“Dead, their necks are broken.”

Matthew felt a sense of unease wash over him, and before Dominic or the bodyguards could stop him, he was inside the tent.

The smell of blood hit him, before he saw the matron and her servant, their throat’s cut and lying in a pool of blood. Now terror crashed into him and he pulled back the curtain to Malachi’s nursery. He approached the cot…oh thank the gods, he was safe and sleeping.

He bent over and picked him up, then froze…Malachi was too still and too cold.

“Malachi?”

Then he saw that his lips were blue and he wasn’t breathing.

“Malachi?No…no…no.”

“Matthew?” he heard Dominic’s voice, but it sounded far away.

“Malachi...no…no…no,” he said, louder this time. As he looked at his son’s lifeless body, something caught his eye...something that did not belong.

“Murder,” he whispered.

Again, he heard Dominic call his name.

“Murder,” he said…. then he screamed it.

“Murder!”


	32. Chapter 32

The camp…well those that were awake, took no notice of the hound’s howl that echoed across it. But they did and others woke, when a distinctly human howl rang out. It brought Lords, warriors, servants and camp followers out of their beds and out of their tents.

Those nearest the main pathway set off a murmur of disquiet, when they saw the High Priest and the High Priestess hurry towards the High Lord’s encampment, and minutes later a Temple Guard was running towards the High King’s camp.

The murmur increased and more people lined the path, as Duke Anderson came running. The murmur became questions, when what could only be bodies were carried away. Then those that could see let out gasps of horror, when the High Priest emerged from the High Lord’s camp, carrying a small bundle, and was followed by the High Lord, who was virtually being carried by his First. A low keening silenced the voices, and the realisation hit that something tragic had happened.

As the small party passed, people began to follow; the High Lord’s keening the only sound. The people only stopped when they reached the tent that housed the altar. The crowds parted as the High King arrived…but where was the High Prince?

It was only minutes after the High King arrived, that the yelling began.

********************

Dominic recoiled at the smell of blood, but he barely noticed the two bodies, focused as he was on Matthew, who had disappeared into Malachi’s nursery. He heard a muffled sob, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Matthew?” he said as he stepped through the curtain…then his world shrank and stopped. He crashed to his knees next to Matthew, who had Malachi tight against his chest, rocking back and forth, a low keening the only sound he was making.

In the corner of his eye, he absently noticed that one of the hounds appeared to be dead, and the other was whining and trying to limp towards them. He ignored it, his attention now fully on Matthew and their now dead son.

“No,” he said softly, as if that would make it not real. Then he noticed that Matthew was clutching something else, something that sent a hot river of murderous rage crashing against his grief. He let the anger out in a howl of desperation and grief.

He did not notice the activity around him, until a soft voice said.

“My Lord, you must attend your husband. We must remove yourselves and your son, so that we may cleanse the ground.”

He nodded his reply, knowing that he would have to be the strong one; as hard as that would be. He moved closer to Matthew, desperately trying not to see the accursed object, that was the evidence of a heinous act.

“Matthew,” he said softly. “Matthew, we must let them perform the cleansing ritual.”

Matthew did not respond, did not even blink.

“Husband, let me take Malachi.”

That got a reaction, Matthew shook his head.

“My love, he must be given the Blessing.”

“No.”

“Matthew...please.”

Matthew let out a heart-wrenching sob.

The High Priestess then stepped forward, “My Lord, Sevlem. Let us cleanse this place. Dark deeds have taken place here. Let us place you son in the arms of the Goddess.”

Matthew let out another sob, then relinquished his hold on Malachi, letting the High Priest take him.

Dominic helped him to his feet and had to hold him up as they left the tent, the beginnings of the cleansing ritual in his ears. The walk to the temple tent seemed to take forever, and Matthew’s low keening made it seem even more so…that and the silence of the people lining the pathway.

It was a relief to reach the tent, and to have the soft voices and the gentle hands of the acolytes taking Matthew, and whispering words that he could not understand.

**********************

His world had shrunk to just himself and Malachi…. his baby was dead…. murdered.

Why had he not felt it…he should have. It should have been like a hammer blow. He should have felt the nursemaids fear, he should have felt his baby struggling to breathe. Something had blocked it, but what? It would not have been the wine; it would never dull their connection. It could only have been one thing…magic, and dark magic at that.

Now he was sat within the temple tent, the tiny body of his child laid before the altar, and the sweet smell of cleansing herbs filling the air. He clung to Dominic in their shared grief. He felt his eyes closing from exhaustion…then he heard the High King’s voice.

His exhaustion fled, replaced by murderous rage.

***********************

Dominic heard the High King’s voice and he felt Matthew tense in his arms. By the time he thought to tighten his hold, Matthew was out of his arms and gone. He was up and instant later, but by then Matthew was facing up to the High King, and was snarling.

“Where is your murderous bastard son?”

The High King was not one to be cowed, “Your grief is clouding your judgement. My son would not commit such a barbarous act.”

Matthew let out a hiss, and Dominic saw him snatch the piece of material from a surprised priest, and shoved it in the High King’s face.

“You recognise the colours? The blood is that of that of my son’s nursemaids, and it was used to smother my child.”

Dominic’s own temper flared when he saw and heard the High King’s reaction.

He snatched the material and threw it on the ground, “That is not evidence of guilt.”

“Then where is he to protest his innocence?” Dominic final spoke.

“We shall settle this. Bring the High Prince.”

“Sire, my Lords. Perhaps it would be better if myself and the High Priestess question the High Prince.”

When Matthew started to baulk at that, the High Priest said.

“High Lord, you and your First must rest and prepare yourself for tomorrow. We must send Lord Malachi’s spirit to winds at sunset tomorrow.”

Dominic moved next to his husband, “Come, my Lord.”

Matthew seemed to deflate and allowed Dominic to lead him away.

***************

Marcus tightened his grip on the young man’s jaw.

“You will lie when they ask you, is that clear?”

The young man nodded, fear evident on his face.

Marcus found it hard not to smile. He knew that he could fool the High Priest and Priestess; they could not heart-read, and the only one that could, was now mourning for the Howard bastard. Well that would not last long, Matthew would soon forget the brat, like he would forget the mongrel he was married to.

He played the wronged prince perfectly, and the young whore lied convincingly.

“Please relay my sorrow at the tragic death of Lord Malachi,” he said before leaving…soon he would have Matthew, then he would have his father’s throne.

****************

The High Priest and Priestess watched as the High King and the High Prince left the tent.

“He lies, I know it,” the High Priestess said.

“We cannot challenge then without absolute proof,” the High Priest answered.

The High Priestess sighed, “Sometimes I wonder if prophecy and destiny are too cruel mistress’.”

“Perhaps, but we, as is everyone are slaves to both. I think perhaps we should not inform then until after Lord Malachi has gone to the Goddess.”

************  
Dominic had to carry Matthew, not to that tent, but to the tent that the Chief of Chieftains had offered them. He would be eternally indebted to the Chief of Chieftains First wife and hr handmaidens, as they helped settle Matthew. Once they had gone, he slipped between the furs, gathered his husband in his arms, then let his tears fall.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The seeds of war will be planted....

Silence reigned over the whole camp, the days chores done at a respectful pace, whilst within their tents, lords, chieftains, and warriors spoke in muted tones on what the death of the High Lord’s child would bring.

Sunset rapidly approached and they gathered around the hastily prepared pyre. There was silence as the procession made its way towards it.

The High Lord stood ram-rod straight, but those close enough could see him trembling, as the small bundle was placed upon the pyre.

The High Priest’s voice rang out.

“I call upon the God to open his arms.”

It was followed by the High Priestess.

“I call upon the Goddess to open up her heart.”

Together they said, “We call upon you to guide the winds to take the spirit of a beloved into your care. May his journey be swift and sure.”

The High Lord let out a cry as the pyre was lit, and his First had to catch hold of him when he collapsed, as the pyre roared into life. The sweet smell of funery incense filled the air, and the prayers of the people filled the silence.

********************

Matthew had refused the calming tea that had been offered him; he did not want to say his final farewell to Malachi whilst drugged. It had taken all his resolve and the added strength of Dominic by his side, to walk the path to the pyre. It was not until the High Priestess laid the tiny bundle on the pyre, wrapped in the family colours, that he began to crumble.

He could not stop himself from trembling, nor the cry that escaped when the pyre was lit. When the flames finally took hold and he could no longer see his son, his strength finally left him, and as he went to the ground, the flames, the smell of the incense and the prayers faded away.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself; he was not sure where he was, it was too dark to see. Then he heard it, a baby crying…crying he would recognise anywhere

“Malachi?”

He started walking, even though he could see nothing, but the crying seemed to grow fainter as he walked.

“Malachi!” he called. He reached out with his magic, but he could not feel their connection.

Then the cry turned to a wail, and their connection hit him, and the fear he felt shredded him like shards of glass.

“Malachi!”

The dark seemed to be getting oppressive, the more he walked forwards; it was pressing on his shoulders. But he kept going, following the faint cries and the even fainter connection. He started to feel tired…. oh so tired. It seemed like he had been walking for hours, and he was beginning to despair. He stumbled, went to his knees, and found he couldn’t get up.

He let out a pained sound.

“Malachi,” he sobbed.

He jumped when he heard, not Malachi, but Nathaniel…what?

“My Lord, return to us.”

He frowned, why would he return, not when he had his son to find. Nathaniel seemed insistent, but he ignore him; his need to find Malachi greater than anything else.

“My Lord,” Nathaniel said again, “You must return.”

“Leave me!” he snapped.

“No, my lord.”

“I said leave me,” he snarled. If he could have seen Nathaniel, he would have shoved him away.

“Then you leave me no choice, my Lord.”

The darkness began to brighten and with it Malachi’s cries faded away.

“No!”

***************************

Dominic stood next to the bed and watched as Morgan and Nathaniel fussed over Matthew. He had passed out when the pyre had roared to life, and had yet to wake.  
“Why does he not wake?”

“I can see no physical reason he should not,” Morgan said. “Nathaniel, perhaps you could.”

Nathaniel looked a Dominic, who nodded; he needed Matthew to wake.

Nathaniel stepped forward and sat on the bed, and placed a hand on Matthew’s forehead. His eyes widened and he snatched his hand away.

“My Lord, he has retreated deep within his mind. But not to fear, I can draw him back, my Lord. With your permission, of course.”

Dominic could only nod; this was a magical thing and beyond his ken. He was a little startled and surprised at the flash of jealousy he felt, when Nathaniel placed his forehead against his husband’s. He had not realised it would be so intimate. He could hear Nathaniel muttering in the language of magic. Words only he would understand.

When Matthew let out a pained sound, he started forward, anger flaring at Nathaniel for causing Matthew pain. A strong hand back held him…Christopher; he had forgotten he was there.

“Peace, my Lord. It is part of the magic. He is not in physical pain.”

Nathaniel seemed to stay connected to Matthew for an eternity, and when he finally moved away, he looked exhausted.

“He will wake soon, my Lord. He may be distressed or a little out of sorts at first.”

As if on cue, Matthew let out a soft groan and his eyelids began to flutter.

“Leave us for now. I will request your presence if required.”

“Make sure he eats and drinks something,” Morgan said before leaving.

Dominic sat next to Matthew as he became more animated, and finally his eyes opened.

“There you are, my Sevlem,” he said softly.

“I am sorry.”

“What for?”

“For causing you worry.”

“You passed out and would not wake. What sort of husband would I be, if I were not worried. Nathaniel said that you had retreated somewhere deep inside your mind. Where did you go?”

A confused look crossed Matthew’s face, then a frown.

“I do not remember.”

“It is not important.”

Matthew took in a breath, then tears began to flow, and Dominic held him as the tears that he could not shed at the pyre fell.

The tears only stopped when their servant arrived with food and sweetened wine. Matthew did not even protest when Dominic fed him the honeyed raisin cakes, dipped in the sweet wine. It had the effect that Dominic wanted and Matthew was soon leaning against him.

“He would have been a fine warrior mage,” Matthew said sleepily.

“Yes, he would have, but he would have had your gentle nature to temper it.”

Matthew fell silent and Dominic thought the wine had finally won…but no.

“When we return to my stronghold, I shall create a garden for him, and his ashes shall rest under a acesia tree.”

“That would be fitting,” Dominic said.

Matthew yawned, “I am tired, I wish to sleep.”

“You do that, my Sevlem.”

“Will you stay, my Lord.”

“There is nowhere I would rather be, my High Lord.”

************************

Matthew woke with the need to do one thing. He carefully extricated himself from Dominic’s arms, and knowing it would probably get him in trouble, he muttered a sleeping enchantment to ensure that he stayed asleep before dressing, as he intended to go back to the remains of the pyre to say his farewell to Malachi.

It was easy to distract the guards, and he thanked the gods it was not Christopher on duty; he would not fall for the distraction enchantment. He then silently made his way towards the burnt- out pyre, avoiding the patrols and the servants that worked at night.

The pyre smelt of funery herbs and the sharp smoky tang of the wood. He knelt and grabbed a handful of the ash from the floor, and began the prayer of farewell for Malachi. He stopped when he thought he heard footsteps, but continued when they stopped. He stopped again, and this time he listened intently and drew the blade that he always secreted on his person. He let the ash fall from his hand and steadied his breathing. He waited...waited as the footsteps got closer, waited until he could sense the person was right behind him.

Then he moved, as quick as the serpent tattooed on his body, sweeping the persons feet from under them and with the same speed straddled the person, knife at their throat. He found himself looking into the terrified eyes of a young man…no, not even that, a boy bordering on a young man.

“Why do you approach your High Lord with such stealth?” he hissed.

The boy showed some courage and answered, although there was a tremor in his voice.

“My Lord, I am the whore the High Prince said he was lying with when your son was killed.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes; he had not been told that, why?

“And, you wish to inform me, why?”

“I... I cannot in good conscience stay silent. My Lord, I wish to confess, the High Prince, he forced me to lie. I was not lying with him, not that night.”

Matthew felt anger begin to heat his blood…felt the need for violent revenge start to sing. He stood and hauled the boy up, and placed the blade against his throat.

“You will not speak of this to anyone else. Pack your belongings and leave the Kingdoms and never return. I shall know if you do and I will have your throat slit.”

He let the boy go and shoved him, watching as he ran back into the dark. He was going to take his vengeance…no, killing Marcus would not be enough. This needed something bigger, something that would burn the High Prince and his whole family from existence…he would find reason to start a war.


	34. Chapter 34

“Matthew, you do not have to do this.”

“The business of the Gathering must continue, so, yes, I do have to do this.”

“No, you do not. They will understand. We are in mourning.”

Dominic stepped back when Matthew whipped round and snarled.

“I am the High Lord of the Mountains. My presence is required on the Council.”

“Matthew, please.”

“Enough!” Matthew snapped, making the servant that was trying to dress him jump. “You are my First and you will attend me.”

With that he shooed the servant away and strode out of the tent.

Dominic sighed, it had been two days since Malachi had died, and it seemed like Matthew had closed off every emotion except anger. He would not talk to him or Nathaniel, turning silent, then snapping when pressed. He knew he shouldn’t have pressed it again, but his concern for his husband’s emotional stated was growing.

He sat slightly behind Matthew as the Council debated, but his attention was not taken by the matters being discussed, but by the way Matthew was staring at Marcus, and the tension he could see in his shoulders.

“My Lord Bellamy, what say you. The disputed land does border your own.”

Dominic held his breath as Matthew started to speak.

“The land does indeed border mine. It contains the shrine of Hestarae, does it not? Then I suggest that the land be ceded to the Temple.”

The uproar that his statement caused took several minutes for the overseer of the council to calm . Once there was quiet, Matthew continued.

“It is the fairest way. If I recall correctly, the dispute between the Royal House and the House of Caracae has been before both the Royal Courts and the Temple Courts at least a dozen times in my lifetime. Ceding ownership to the Temple will end the waste of court time and money.”

There was more noise as his proposal was discussed, and the Lord sitting next to him leant over and said.

“Are you aware that one of the disputee’s is High Prince Marcus.”

“Is he? I was not aware, but I am sure he will not miss it.”

“My Lord, there are several gold and copper mines within that territory.”

“Then it’s profits shall help feed those less fortunate, and not stuff the royal coffers even more.”

The Lord nodded, then said. “It is a dangerous game you play, my Lord. The viper does not like its tail pulled.”

“Who said I was going for the tail,” Matthew replied.

The Lord sat back, and Dominic could see that he was thinking about what had been said. What are you playing at Matthew?

The noise decreased again, and the Overseer stood

“The Council will now vote on the High Lord’s suggestion. All those who have a vested interest in this dispute will leave, as will those not entitled to vote.”

Dominic was not happy as he found himself separated from Matthew, who was waylaid by another council member, and as he was ushered away by one of the clerks, he saw Marcus making straight for Matthew; then the tent was closed to him and he had to return to their camp.

**********************

Matthew had not taken his eyes of Marcus since he had sat down. I see you, murderer, he thought…. oh, how you sit there with that fake sympathy and commiseration on you face. I do not need to heart-read you to know your sins. If I could, I would drive my blade into that dark mass you call a heart.

He had not expected the opportunity to arise so soon to enact some sort of revenge, and he smiled to himself at the chaos it caused, and it was hard to keep a blank expression at the uproar. He hardly noticed Dominic was not at his side when the non-voting attendees filed out.

All he saw was Marcus coming towards him, and that he looked displeased. He tensed, readying himself to be diplomatic, when another council member blocked his view, and by the time he had spoken with him, Marcus had been ushered away and out of the tent.

He let out a frustrated breath and left the tent.

As he stepped out, the anger he had felt washed away, and he shivered because his magic felt a little bit murky, and the guilt he had been feeling about how atrocious his behaviour had become, flooded back; not even the state of mourning was an excuse for his behaviour. Perhaps he should find somewhere quiet and meditate…yes, he would do that.

He found himself once more by the river, but at least it was daylight, and the sounds of the camp gave him a sense of security. He sat under a tree, facing the river, he took a few deep breathes and slipped into his meditative state.

The thought that perhaps he had been too hasty, fuelled by anger arose…and how could he let himself believe the word of a whore, who could have been paid to say what he said. Well, there was nothing he could do now, he would just have to deal with the consequences.

He was snapped out of his meditation by a voice.

“Vengeance in itself is not an ignoble thing.”

He opened his eyes and found an old man dressed in battle armour sitting next to him. The old man spoke again.

“But vengeance can be a terrible weapon, if it is allowed to be tainted by blind-anger.”

“Who are you?”

The old man let out a sigh, “Someone who has played the game you are now playing.”

“I am not playing games,” he snapped, suddenly irritated.

“Oh, but you are. You are playing a game that leads to dark paths.”

“You said that vengeance is not an ignoble thing. The vengeance I seek is just.”

“That may be so, but in the pursuit of blood for blood, the innocent suffer. But I see that already you regret your actions, and your heart does not carry any darkness.”

The old man stood and placed a hand on his shoulder, “But was is done was meant to be done, even the darkest of acts.”

He then smiled and said, “You look tired, my Lord.”

Matthew suddenly yawned, he did feel tired. Perhaps just a small nap would help. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them to speak to the old warrior, but he wasn’t there. He looked up and down the path and behind him, but there was no sign of the man.

He would have to ask around the camp, the man’s armour and colours were very distinct; he would like to talk to the old man again. He yawned again and closed his eyes….

The next thing he was aware of was being shaken awake by a worried looking Christopher…perhaps he had seen the old warrior.

“I saw many a warrior on my way to find you, my Lord. If you describe whose colours he wore.”

Matthew didn’t like the way Christopher paled as he described the colours and the image on his cloak.

“Christopher, what is wrong?”

Christopher took an unsteady breath, then said.

“My Lord, those are the colours of the House of Iseat.”

“And where is Lord Iseat’s tent located.”

“My Lord, the House of Iseat has not existed since the Great War. The entire clan were killed when their stronghold was razed to the ground.”


	35. Chapter 35

Matthew had secluded himself in what had been Malachi’s nursery. Whether the warrior had been real or a spirit, or a product of his own mind, it had brought him to his senses. He had become lost in anger and the need for revenge. So much so, that he had nearly forgotten the reason why. He knelt next to Malachi’s crib, one of his blankets clutched to his chest.

How could he do that…what in the Light had made him?

He lifted the blanket to his face and the scent of Sesar flower and Malachi’s own scent, flooded his senses. Oh, my little one, your life hadn’t even began. You would have been a powerful Seer, my magic had already felt that. Who would you have grown to look like, and whose temperament would you have inherited? Would you have found your soulmate?

“Oh, little one, I could have taught you so much. I would have shown you the wonders of my domain, the mysteries of the Sacred Mountains. I would have welcomed your soulmate as my own kin.”

He felt tears welling and he let them fall, and all the anger and insanity flowed out with them. When he felt strong arms wrap around him, he did not move away.

“My love, let us go home.”

“But I should, the Council.”  
“Let your councillors deal with it,” Dominic said.

He sighed, “You are right, my husband. We should lay our son’s ashes with his ancestors, a I shall pray that a swift wind carried his spirit to the gods.”

“And I shall pray that the gods will punish those that murdered our son and the members of our household.”

He felt his breath hitch, “Martha was my wet nurse after my mother died. Then she was my nanny until I entered the Temple. She was as near to a mother that I had. Sara was her daughter, and she was my crib-mate.”

“Then I shall pray that the gods allow you blood vengeance instead.”

He leant into Dominic, “I do not wish to think on that tonight. Tonight, I just want to sleep.”

***************

The Chief of Chieftains bowed to Matthew.

“Some of my personal guard will escort you and your First back to your stronghold.”

“That is most generous, Vassar. It is a shame that we have met under such circumstances. Perhaps you will do me the honour of being the honoured guest at the Mid-Winter Festival.”

“The honour will be all mine, my Lord. My sword is your sword and my hordes are your hordes.”

The Chief of Chieftains stepped back and a man no younger than Matthew stepped forward.

“This is my second son. He will ride with you as a sign of my fealty.”

“Your name?”

“Sulis, my Lord.”

“Then Sulis, second son of Vassar, you will ride with myself and my First.”

The young man’s face lit up as Matthew mounted his horse, and he led Dominic and his own guard under Christopher’s command out of the High Lord’s encampment.

**********************

It seemed like the two months had not existed, and the Mid-Winter Festival was upon them. Dominic let out a sigh and wondered if he would return to him on Mid-Winter’s night Eve. He looked around the empty chamber…. gods, it felt so empty.

Matthew had withdrawn from public life, which he understood. But he could not understand why he had withdrawn from their chambers. He had to rely on the words of others, that his husband was well. Once or twice he had caught sight of him, as he travelled from his own chambers to the stronghold’s temple; but that was all.

“He must grieve in solitude and take a vow of abstinence, for a marked period,” was the answer he received every time he asked.  
It did not help, but he would bear it, and turned to dealing with his own grief.

Then the preparations for the mid-winter night feasts and tournaments had taken up his time, and the imminent arrival of their guests. He had fallen into bed, too tired to think about being alone, and was about to blow out the last candle, when he heard the door open.

He tensed, his hand reaching for his sword.

“There is no need for your weapon, husband,” a soft voice said, and several candles re-lit themselves.

Matthew stepped out of the shadows and into the soft candlelight…gods, he was beautiful.

“Matthew,” he breathed.

“The time for mourning and solitude is over. I shall no longer withhold myself and my body from you. I ask to be allowed to return to our bed.”

Dominic let out the breath he had been holding and held out his hand.

“You do not need to ask permission. This bed and our chambers have been too cold and lonely without you.”

He could feel the tremor in Matthew’s hand when he took hold of it, and he could feel the tremble in Matthew’s body, as he re-explored the places that he knew and missed. Then he calmed the tremors as he held him until they fell into slumber.

*******************

They were late for the feast, and he blamed Dominic for that…although he had been a very pleasant distraction. He prayed that no-one would notice the already darkening bruise on his collarbones, gods, did this outfit have to be so low cut, and he scowled at the satisfied grin that Dominic was sporting. He was eternally grateful that the nobles around him were well-versed in the art of selected blindness.

“I swear, I am going to repay you in kind, husband,” he whispered, as another noble tried his hardest not to look.

“You can try,” Dominic replied.

“Oh, I will,” he retorted, then smiled when another noble approached.

“My Lord, I seek a private audience with yourself.”

“Speak to the Chamberlain, he will schedule a meeting.”

“My Lord, it is a rather urgent and delicate matter.”

He let out a long sigh, “Very well. Dominic, would you preside in my stead, whilst I speak with Lord…?”

“Ralston, my Lord, from the Western Coast.”

“Then, would you excuse us.”

He led Lord Ralston towards and into the council chambers.  
“I must admit, I am not so familiar with the Western coast, or the houses.”

He turned, then his eyes widened in surprise, but before he or his magic could react, something was pressed to his head.

Lord Ralston caught him, as he dropped.

“I apologise, Sevlem. Please forgive me, but I do have the time to explain. The knowledge I possess is better kept within your mind. Your magic is now strong enough to hold it and guard it. You will not know you have this knowledge, not until it is time for it to be used.”

He placed his forehead against Matthew’s and muttered an incantation; his face showing the pain the transfer was causing. A few minutes later, he gently laid Matthew down, the staggered back and collapsed, dead before he hit the floor.

Matthew twitched, then his eyes snapped open and glowed, his back arching off the floor. Then he stilled, just as the chamber doors burst open.

****************

Dominic did not like the idea of Matthew being unaccompanied, but he had been tasked with representing him, and he could not refuse. He was trying to relax, when there was commotion at one of the tables.

He looked over and saw Nathanial, the mind-walker, standing, but being supported by one of the servants. He was quickly over to the table, Nathanial looked pale and panicked.

“The High Lord…something has happened to the High Lord.”

Dominic clambered over the table and ran, followed by Christopher, Morgan, and their personal guards. When he reached the council chambers, the door would not open. He tried to force them, but they would not budge; not even with the weight of a dozen men on them.

“Sorcery,” Christopher growled.

“Matthew!” Dominic yelled, pounding on the doors.

He nearly fell when the doors suddenly gave, but that was forgotten when he saw Lord Ralston on the floor, and beyond him, Matthew.

“No,” he said and stepped over Lord Ralston and fell to his knees bedside Matthew. He placed his fingers against Matthew’s neck…. thank the gods, he could feel a thready beat.

“He lives,” he said, and the relief in the chamber was palpable.

“Lord Ralston?”

“Dead, my lord,” Morgan said, who then moved over to examine Matthew.

“His heart beat too rapidly, I must get him to my treatment room. Bring a stretcher.”

“No, I will carry him,” Dominic said.

He could only watch as Morgan examined him.

“There appears to be no physical damage. You should one of the court magi examine for a magical attack.”

“I want Lord Ralston’s room searched, and have his body disposed of.”

He was somewhat pacified, when the magi assured him that he could sense no dark or foreign magic

“Will he wake soon?”

“Patience, Dominic, he will wake in his own time. He is not deeply unconscious.”

Dominic sat on the stool by the bed, took hold of Matthew’s hand and waited.

*********************

The Western Seas had never been fully explored, and little was known about the lands that lay beyond it. Most thought it was a barren land, but the more superstitious whispered that it was full of monsters and demons and the Dark.

The ship that was anchored off its rocky shore knew the truth. They knew the fate of the chained souls that were dragged ashore. They had some miles to travel, but their pace would be quick.

Deep within the heart of the land, it stirred as it felt the presence of life and blood. It had been waiting for so long, and for years now, it had patiently reached out, seeking those with darkness in their souls; and it had not found it to be wanting.

But there was one thing that it craved above all, and it had felt it and seen it…a shining light on the horizon. It would have that source of light and consume it.

The Dark laughed….it was time to rise.


	36. Chapter 36

Matthew was bored, almost to tears, having been confined to their chambers until tomorrow. Dominic had refused to let him look at any court papers, and he swore he now knew every blemish on the wall. He could of course use magic to slip past his husband and the guards at the door, but his magic had been unpredictable since that dark ritual.

He supressed a shudder at the memory; the feeling of that icy claw of dark magic, as it pulled at his heart. He thought he was going to die on the bloodstained altar. There had been a fleeting moment as he’d held Malachi’s body, that he wished he had.

“Is the wall that fascinating?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said…never mind. Are you that bored?”

“Gods, yes. I know every crack in this chamber. Really need to get this place repaired.”

“Perhaps it would do no harm, if we took a short walk. I heard that Lord Stafford is running a game of dice in the squire’s quarters.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow, “Are you disobeying the physician’s orders?”

“I might be, it would be good for the people to see you are unharmed. That and I want to know if that Temple training has made you a saint, who cannot gamble.”

“Oh, you think so, do you husband?”

***************

The squire’s quarters went quiet when the High Lord and his First strolled in, but as soon as the High Lord placed a pile of silver coins on the table, it soon roared into noise again, and Dominic learnt that a Temple upbringing didn’t make you a saint.

The game was just starting to get serious, when Matthew stepped back from the table, feeling a little unsteady on his feet.

“Are you all right?” Dominic asked.

“A little tired, the heat and the wine perhaps.”

“Maybe we should retire.”

“No, I am fine, a chair will suffice. After all, Lord Stafford should have a chance to win his money back.”

A chair appeared, and the game picked up again. It eventually came down to Lord Stafford and Matthew; the pot of silver was very large.

Matthew rattled the die in cup.

“Nine,” he said and threw the die. They skittered across the table and he stood to see, and he felt his balance go. He sat down quickly, shaking his head to clear the fuzziness.

*******************

“Matthew?” Dominic said.

“Just a little dizzy. I stood too quickly.”

“I think it is time for you to retire. Lord Stafford, we forfeit the game, the pot is yours. The High Lord is retiring for the night.”

He helped Matthew stand and to a chorus of “My Lord’s” and bows, he guided his husband out of the squire’s quarters. They had only gone a few feet, when he felt Matthew tense and take in a harsh breath.

“I think I am going to…yes, I am going to be sick.”

He pulled out of Dominic’s grasp, went to his knees, and heaved. Dominic rested a hand on his back, feeling the trembling as Matthew was sick. Eventually Matthew started to move, and he helped him away from the mess.

“I will take you to Morgan,” he said softly. They had to stop several times, even though Matthew was only bringing up bile.

He didn’t bother to knock the door, he barged in and ignored Morgan’s annoyed expression.

“What is he doing out of your chambers?”

“He became dizzy, then he was sick a lot on the way here,” Dominic said as Morgan examined him.

“Any tenderness in your abdomen or lower back?”

Matthew shook his head, still looking like he could vomit again.

“Headache, pain in your neck or joints?”

Another shake of the head.

“Any unusual sweating?”

“No,” Matthew manage to say this time.

Morgan took a candle and moved it close to Matthew’s face.

“Does the light hurt your eyes?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

He moved away and came back with a vial.

“If you would, my Lord.”

“Are you thinking an infection?” Dominic asked as he watched Morgan mix several coloured liquids.

Matthew came back, and then there was only the sound of clinking glass.

“Can you please lie down on the bed again.”

Dominic frowned, his heart skipping beats. What if it was something serious? His great uncle had died of a malaise of the stomach, a slow and painful ending for such a powerful warrior. He could hardly breath as Morgan felt around Matthew’s midriff.

“Morgan, please,” he pleaded.

Morgan stepped back and washed his hands.

“I can find no sign of infection, but that does not mean you are not harbouring one. You will stay here overnight.”

“What…no.”

“Yes, since I cannot trust you to stay in your chambers, let alone a bed, and I cannot trust that he will make sure you do. That and if you are harbouring some illness, I will not have to walk the length of the Kingdom to treat you. Now, my Lord, you should be abed. Dominic can be informed if you do take ill.”

Matthew sighed. “Fine.”

He gave Dominic a chaste kiss to his cheek and told him to go.

Dominic wasn’t happy, Matthew had only just returned to their bed. But he was worried that Matthew could be ill. As he settled into bed, he wondered if this run of misfortune would ever cease. He sent a silent prayer to the God and Goddess that it would.

*******************

Matthew tried to get comfortable, he was certain the patient’s bed was designed to make the patient recover quicker, rather than lounge in a comfortable bed. Frustrated, he sat up and went to get up, but Morgan’s voice floated from the other room.

“Do not even think about it. Lay back down, or do I have to tie you to it.”

“You would not dare, I am your Lord.”

Morgan walked into the ward, “Oh I dare. You maybe the High Lord of the Mountain and whatever, but this is my kingdom, and I rule. If you are having trouble sleeping, I can give you a sleeping draught.”

“No, I will be fine.”

“Then goodnight, my Lord. If you need me, I am only next door.”

“You should sleep.”

“Not when I have a patient.”

He sighed and lay back down, closed his eyes and willed sleep to come.

His eyes snapped open when he heard a noise. He sat up, looked around, but there was nothing, not in the light at least. He let his magic reach out, and he let it trickle into the shadows. Then it suddenly became very alert.

He narrowed his eyes and peered into the dark…only shadow. He got up and moved closer, the shrugged when he still saw nothing. He was about to return to bed, when something skittered past the corner of his vision.

Then something leapt out of the shadows, and his magic reacted.


End file.
